GIFT   OF 


HOW  TO   SPEAK 
IN  PUBLIC 


By 
GRENVILLE   KLEISER 

Formerly   Instructor  in   Elocution,    Tale  Divinity   School,    Tale    University 

Now    Instructor    in    Elocution,    The    Jewish     Theological 

Seminary  of  America  and  Other  Institutions 


SECOND  EDITION 


OFTHE 

UNIVERSITY 

OF 


FUNK  &  WAGNALLS  COMPANY 

NEW  YORK  AND  LONDON 
1907 


COPYRIGHT  1906  BY 

FUNK  &  W AGNAILS  COMPANY 

Printed  in  the  United  States  of  America 

Published  October,  1906 

All  rights  reserved 


I,  ii,  '07 


PREFACE 


In  my  work  as  instructor  in  elocution  and  public  speak- 
ing, I  have  not  found  a  text-book  wholly  suited  to  my 
requirements.  There  are  numerous  theoretical  works  of 
interest  to  teachers,  but  few  of  them  are  of  practical  value 
to  students.  It  is  confidently  believed  that  the  present 
volume,  embracing  for  the  most  part  exercises  and  selections 
for  practise,  will  satisfy  a  distinct  demand.  While  much 
of  the  subject  matter  has  been  evolved  from  my  own  teach- 
ing, I  am  deeply  sensible  of  my  indebtedness  to  others  for 
valuable  material,  the  sources  of  which  it  is  not  always 
easy  to  trace. 

It  is  recommended  that  each  lesson  be  varied  by  exercises 
in  breathing,  voice  culture,  articulation,  reading  and  ges- 
ture, rather  than  to  confine  it  to  a  single  section  of  the  book. 

Grateful  acknowledgment  is  made  to  various  publishers 
and  authors  for  generously  permitting  the  use  of  selections. 

GEENVILLE  KLEISER. 


New  York  City, 

September,  1906. 


Hi 

157671 


CONTENTS 


PART   ONE— MECHANICS   OF   ELOCUTION 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

I.  BREATHING  AND  VOCAL  HYGIENE       ....  3-9 

BREATHING  EXERCISES 3 

RELAXATION  EXERCISES 5 

VOCAL  ORGANS 6 

VOCAL  HYGIENE 8 

II.  VOCAL  EXPRESSION 10-25 

ARTICULATION .  10 

TABLE  OF  ELEMENTARY  SOUNDS 10 

-LIST  OF  WORDS  FOR  PRACTISE 12 

ARTICULATION  EXERCISES 14 

MISCELLANEOUS  EXERCISES 16 

EXERCISES  IN  ALLITERATION 19 

WORDS  FREQUENTLY  MISPRONOUNCED    ...  20 

VOCAL  DEFECTS 24 

III.  VOICE  CULTURE 26-33 

PURITY 26 

FLEXIBILITY  AND  COMPASS     ......  27 

BRILLIANCY 30 

RESONANCE 31 

VOLUME 31 

IV.  MODULATION 34-60 

DUALITY 34 

PITCH  53 


vi  CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

V.  MODULATION,  CONTINUED 61-82 

TIME 61 

INFLECTION 71 

FORCE 78 

VI.  MODULATION,  CONTINUED 83-98 

STRESS 83 

RHYTHM 88 

TRANSITION '.     .  91 

CLIMAX 93 

IMITATIVE  MODULATION 96 

VII.  GESTURE 99-110 

EXAMPLES 102 

SUGGESTIONS 103 

EXAMPLES 104 

PART  TWO— MENTAL  ASPECTS 

VIII.  PAUSING  . 113-119 

RULES  FOR  PAUSING 114 

EXAMPLES 115 

GENERAL  EXERCISES 115 

EMPHASIS 119-125 

RULES  FOR  EMPHASIS 121 

EXAMPLES  .  121 

INFLECTION 125-131 

USES  OF  INFLECTION 126 

EXAMPLES 129 

IX.  PICTURING 132-138 

EXAMPLES 133 

CONCENTRATION 138-142 

EXAMPLES 140 

SPONTANEITY 143-145 

EXAMPLES  143 


CONTENTS  vii 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

X.  CONVERSATION 146-151 

EXAMPLES 147 

SIMPLICITY 151-156 

EXAMPLES 152 

SINCERITY 156-159 

AIM  AND  PURPOSE 159-163 

XI.  CONFIDENCE 164-166 

EXAMPLES 164 

EARNESTNESS 166-170 

THE  EMOTIONS 170-179 

EXAMPLES 171 

XII.  BIBLE  READING 180-181 

PASSAGES  FOR  PRACTISE 181 

PART   THREE— PUBLIC   SPEAKING 

XIII.  PREVIOUS  PREPARATION 185-195 

PHYSICAL 185-187 

Health 185 

Elocution 186 

Appearance 187 

MENTAL 187-192 

General  Knowledge     .......  187 

Memory 188 

Rhetoric 188 

Originality 190 

Imagination 190 

Personal  Magnetism 192 

Logical  Instincts 192 

Figures  of  Oratory 192 

MORAL 193-195 

Religion 193 

Character 193 


viii  CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

XIII.  PREVIOUS  PREPARATION — MORAL —  ( Con  tin  ued ) 

Synipathy 193 

Fearlessness 194 

Self-renunciation 194 

Perseverance  and  Industry    ....  194 

Strong  Opinions  and  Convictions     .      .  195 

XIV.  PREPARATION  OF  THE  SPEECH 196-200 

GATHERING  MATERIAL 196 

ARRANGING  MATERIAL 197 

BRIEFING 198 

COMMITTING 199 

XV.  DIVISIONS  OF  THE  SPEECH 201-211 

THE  INTRODUCTION 201 

THE  DISCUSSION 205 

THE  CONCLUSION 209 

XVI.  DELIVERY  OF  THE  SPEECH 212-215 

THE  AUDIENCE 212 

THE  BEGINNING 212 

PROGRESS 213 

THE  CLIMAX 213 

THE  CLOSE 214 

AFTERWARD     .         214 

GENERAL  SUGGESTIONS 214 

PART  FOUR— SELECTIONS   FOR   PRACTISE 

CLOSE  OF  THE  ORATION  ON  THE  CROWN     .     .     Demosthenes  219 

ORATORY Henry  Ward  Beecher  224 

ON  THE  AMERICAN  WAR Lord  Chatham  229 

IMPEACHMENT  OF  WARREN  HASTINGS    .      .     Edmund  Burke  232 

THE  FORCE  BILL John  C.  Calhoun  235 

DEFENSE  OF  JOHN  STOCKDALE  .                           Lord  Erskine  237 


CONTENTS  ix 

PAGE 

ADDRESS  TO  THE  YOUNG  MEN  OP  ITALY     .     Joseph  Mazzini  240 

SOUTH  CAROLINA  AND  MASSACHUSETTS     .     Daniel  Webster  243 

THE  DEATH  PENALTY Victor  Hugo  246 

OUR  RELATIONS  TO  ENGLAND    ....     Edward  Everett  248 

REPLY  TO  HAYNE Daniel  Webster  250 

SPEECH  OF  SERJEANT  BUZFUZ    ....     Charles  Dickens  253 

CATILINE'S  DEFIANCE Rev.  George  Croly  257 

CATILINE  DENOUNCED Cicero  259 

THE  ELOQUENCE  OF  ADAMS Daniel  Webster  261 

THE  POWER  OF  HABIT John  B.  Gough  266 

INVECTIVE  AGAINST  CORRY Henry  Grattan  269 

TOUSSAINT  L'OUVERTURE     .      .      .      .      .     Wendell  Phillips  271 

THE  SECRET  OF  LINCOLN'S  POWER    .     .     Henry  Watterson  273 

THE  DEATH  OF  ABRAHAM  LINCOLN    .    Henry  Ward  Beecher  276 

INAUGURAL  ADDRESS Theodore  Roosevelt  278 

A  VISION  OF  WAR  AND  A  VISION  OF  THE  FUTURE  .  Ingersoll  281 

GIVE  ME  LIBERTY  OR  GIVE  ME  DEATH  !  .      .     Patrick  Henry  285 

SECOND  INAUGURAL  ADDRESS  ....     Abraham  Lincoln  289 

FAREWELL  ADDRESS George  Washington  291 

ON  THE  POLITICAL  SITUATION   .      .     .     John  James  Ingalls  312 

AGAINST  CAPITAL  PUNISHMENT       ....     Robespierre  325 

SIMPLICITY  AND  GREATNESS Fenelon  330 

SPEECH  WHEN  UNDER  SENTENCE  OF  DEATH   .   Robert  Emmet  337 

KING  HENRY  VIII.,— ACT  III,  SCENE  2  .     .     Shakespeare  346 

KING  JOHN,  PARTS  OF  ACTS  III  AND  IV   .      .     Shakespeare  350 

JULIUS  CAESAR,  ACT  III,  SCENE  2  ....     Shakespeare  357 

JULIUS  CAESAR,  ACT  IV,  SCENE  3    ....     Shakespeare  366 

As  You  LIKE  IT,  ACT  I,  SCENE  3  ....     Shakespeare  370 

HAMLET,  PART  OF  ACT  V Shakespeare  374 

OTHELLO,  ACT  I,  SCENE  3 Shakespeare  380 

THE  SHIPWRECK Charles  Dickens  384 


X  CONTENTS 

PAGE 

COMO Joaquin  Miller  386 

THE  REVENGE Alfred,  Lord  Tennyson  390 

MAGDALENA;  OR,  THE  SPANISH  DUEL     .     .     J.  F.  Waller  395 

JEAN  VALJEAN  THE  CONVICT Victor  Hugo  402 

THE  REVOLUTIONARY  RISING   .     .     Thomas  Buchanan  Bead  408 

THE  LEGEND  OF  THE  ORGAN-BUILDER  .     .     Julia  C.  E.  Dorr  411 

SHIPWRECKED Francois  Coppee  415 

THE  FIRST  SETTLER'S  STORY Will  Carleton  420 

THE  MONSTER  CANNON Victor  Hugo  426 

TIME'S  SILENT  LESSON 436 

THE  BATTLE  OF  WATERLOO Lord  Byron  439 

ODE  ON  SAINT  CECILIA John  Dry  den  442 

WILLIAM  TELL Wm.  Baine  444 

THE  DIVER Schiller  446 

SCENE  FROM  "THE  RIVALS" Sheridan  450 

ON  THE  EXPUNGING  RESOLUTIONS  ....     Henry  Clay  454 

SPARTACUS  TO  THE  GLADIATORS  AT  CAPUA   .     .     E.  Kellogg  458 

ON  THE  USE  OF  PRIVATE  JUDGMENT     .     .     J.  H.  Newman  460 

PART  OF  LECTURE  ON  "EMERSON"     .     .     Matthew  Arnold  477 

THE  "CROSS  OF  GOLD"  SPEECH     .     .     .     .     W.  J.  Bryan  488 

OWYHEE  JOE'S  STORY E.  Wildman  498 

THE  YACHT  CLUB  SPEECH 503 

THE  Two  PICTURES 505 

GOD G.  E.  Derzhavin  508 

THE  LITTLE  STOWAWAY 511 

ARNOLD  WINKELREID James  Montgomery  515 

ON  THE  RAPPAHANNOCK 517 

DEATH  OF  LITTLE  Jo Charles  Dickens  520 

THE  DISCONTENTED  PENDULUM      ....     Jane  Taylor  523 

THE  MASQUERADE John  G.  Saxe  526 

THE  STAR-SPANGLED  BANNER F.  S.  Key  532 


PART    I 
MECHANICS  OF   ELOCUTION 


CHAPTER   I 


BREATHING  AND  VOCAL  HYGIENE 

Correct  management  of  the  breath  is  of  first  importance 
to  the  student  of  elocution.  When  the  voic'e  is  not  in  use 
breathe  exclusively  through  the  nose  so  that  the  air  may  be 
warmed  and  purified  before  reaching  the  lungs.  This  habit 
will,  in  large  measure,  obviate  the  disagreeable  effects  of 
dry  mouth  and  sore  throat,  so  common  to  public  speakers. 
Practise  as  much  as  possible  in  the  open  air.  Be  enthu- 
siastic and  in  earnest. 

It  is  now  generally  conceded  that  the  abdominal  method 
is  the  natural  and  correct  way  to  breathe.  In  inhalation 
the  abdominal  wall  moves  outward,  the  diaphragm  contracts 
and  descends,  while  the  lungs  resting  upon  the  latter  are 
expanded  to  their  fullest  capacity.  In  exhalation  the  re- 
verse movement  takes  place.  To  inflate  the  chest  and  draw 
in  the  abdomen  is  to  breathe  wrongly. 

The  correct  position  for  practising  the  exercises  is  as 
follows:  Stand  easily  erect,  chest  active,  shoulders  equal 
height,  chin  level,  one  foot  slightly  in  advance  of  the  other, 
heels  at  an  angle  of  forty-five  degrees,  knees  straight,  weight 
of  the  body  on  the  toes,  arms  a  dead  weight  at  sides. 

BREATHING    EXERCISES 

1.  Gentle  abdominal  breathing.  Inhale  through  the 
nose  gently  and  slowly,  expanding  first  the  abdomen,  then 
the  chest,  filling  the  entire  breathing  capacity.  Exhale 


4  HOW  TO  SPEAK  IN  PUBLIC 

quietly  and  evenly  until  these  parts  are  wholly  contracted. 
Repeat,  inhaling  and  exhaling  through  the  mouth. 

2.  Sipping  and  packing  the  air.    Slowly  sip  the  air  until 
the  normal  capacity  is  filled,  then  increase  the  expansion 
by  firmly  packing  in  more  air.    Exhale  slowly  on  aspirated 
ah  (the  sound  of  a  in  father).     The  exhalation  should  be 
deep,  smooth  and  sustained  as  long  as  possible. 

3.  Nostril  breathing.     Gently  close  the  right  nostril  with 
the  thumb  of  the  right  hand.     Inhale  slowly  and  deeply 
through  the  left  nostril  until  the  capacity  is  filled,  then 
change  the  thumb  to  the  left  nostril  and  exhale  slowly 
through  the  right  nostril  until  the  breath  is  exhausted. 
Then  with  the  thumb  still  closing  the  left  nostril, , inhale 
and  repeat. 

4.  Holding  the  breath.     Inhale  deeply.    Hold  the  breath 
while  mentally  counting  five.    Exhale  slowly.    Increase  the 
count  to  ten,  fifteen,  etc.    Stop  at  the  first  sign  of  dizziness. 

5.  Muscular  expansion.    Inhale  deeply.  Hold  the  breath 
and  expand  the  lungs  with  a  muscular  effort.  Exhale  slowly. 
Again  inhale  and  force  the  air  down  into  the  lungs.    Also 
move  the  chest  up  and  down,  keeping  the  air  in  the  lungs 
all  the  time. 

6.  Counting  in  a  whisper.     Inhale  deeply.     Count  one 
to  fifty  in  a  loud  whisper,  in  tens. 

7.  Whispering  continued.    Inhale  deeply.     Count  in  a 
projected  whisper  to  fifty,  one  at  a  time,  completely  ex- 
hausting the  air  upon  each  figure. 

8.  Raising  the  hands  above  the  head.    Clasp  the  hands 
and  while  inhaling  deeply  raise   them  slowly  above  the 
head,   endeavoring  to  reach  as  high  as  possible   without 
raising  the  heels  from  the  floor.     Exhale  while  the  arms 
gently  fall  to  the  sides. 


BREATHING  AND  VOCAL  HYGIENE  5 

% 

9.  Raising  the  shoulders.     Inhale  deeply.     Clench  the 
hands  at  sides  and  while  holding  the  breath,  slowly  but 
firmly  raise  the  shoulders  up  and  down  five  times.     Ex- 
hale slowly  and  smoothly. 

10.  Instantaneous   breathing.      Inhale   instantaneously, 
deeply  and  fully.     Exhale  instantaneously. 

11.  Rapid  breathing.    Inhale  fully  and  deeply.    Breathe 
rapidly  through  the  nostrils  as  in  panting.    Exhale  slowly 
through  the  mouth.    Rest  and  repeat. 

12.  Lying  down.    Practise  the  foregoing  exercises  lying 
flat  on  the  back,  without  the  use  of  a  pillow. 

RELAXATION    EXERCISES 

1.  The  arms.     Relax  the  arms  at  sides.     While  inha- 
ling, slowly  raise  the  arms  above  the  head  with  as  little  ten- 
sion as  possible.     Hold  the  breath,  make  the  arms  tense 
and  reach  as  high  as  possible  with  the  hands,  hold  a  few 
seconds,  then  relax  and  exhale  as  the  arms  slowly  descend. 

2.  The  hands.     Repeat,  clasping  the  hands  above  the 
head  and  swaying  from  side  to  side. 

3.  Walking.    Relax  the  entire  body  and  walk  in  imita- 
tion of  intoxication. 

4.  The  body.    With  head  and  neck  thoroughly  relaxed, 
shake  the  body  vigorously. 

5.  The  breath.    While  inhaling,  raise  the  arms  to  hori- 
zontal position,  then  hold  the  breath  and  stretch  as  far  as 
possible. 

6.  The  feet.    With  weight  on  forward  foot,  the  back- 
ward foot  lightly  touching  the  floor,  slowly  raise  one  arm 
while  inhaling  deeply  and  reach  out  as  far  as  possible. 
Relax  and  reverse. 


6  HOW  TO  SPEAK  IN  PUBLIC 

0 

7.  Position.    Relax  the  head  and  drop  the  arms  down 
as  if  reaching  to  the  floor.     The  knees  should  be  straight 
Slowly  assume  an  upright  position  and  inhale  deeply.    The 
head  should  be  raised  last. 

8.  The  waist.    Relax  the  head  and  revolve  at  the  waist. 
Reverse. 

9.  Yawning.    While  inhaling,  slowly  raise  the  arms  as 
in  yawning,  then  stretch  and  relax. 

The  student  will  find  it  beneficial  to  hold  some  lofty 
and  appropriate  thought  in  mind  while  practising  these 
exercises. 

VOCAL  ORGANS 

A  brief  outline  of  the  organs  used  in  speech,  or  closely 
related  thereto,  is  all  that  is  necessary  in  the  present  vol- 
ume. Those  who  wish  to  make  a  comprehensive  study  of 
this  branch  of  the  subject  will  find  numerous  books  upon 
the  physiology  and  anatomy  of  the  vocal  organs. 

1.  Chest.     The  chest  is  formed  by  the  backbone,  ribs, 
breast-bone  and  collar-bone.     It  is  lined  and  covered  with 
membranes  supported  and  worked  by  muscles.     It  con- 
tains the  lungs,  heart  and  principal  arteries  and  veins. 

2.  Lungs.    The  lungs  are  conical,  formed  of  five  lobes, 
honeycombed  with  hexagonal  cells  of  various  sizes  to  con- 
tain air.     The  duty  of  the  lungs  is  to  supply  oxygen  to, 
and  take  up  carbon  from,  the  blood. 

3.  Heart.    The  heart  is  situated  between  the  two  lungs 
under  the  breast-bone,  inclined  to  the  left.     The  duty  of 
the  heart  is  to  regulate  the  passage  of  the  blood ;  the  blood 
is  passed  into  the  lungs  to  receive  oxygen  and  deposit  car- 
bon; it  is  then  passed  through  the  arteries  to  the  extremi- 
ties, then  returned  through  the  veins  to  the  heart,  and 
again  undergoes  the  same  process. 


BREATHING  AND  VOCAL  HYGIENE  7 

4.  Larynx.     The  larynx  is  formed  by  the  top  ring  of 
the  windpipe,  the  two  shield  cartilages,  and  epiglottis  or  lid. 

5.  The  vocal  cords.    These  consist  of  two  slight,  elastic 
bands,  situated  in  the  larynx,  and  immediately  below  its 
outward  projection,  known  as  the  ''Adam's  apple."     In 
the  act  of  voice  production,  they  are  thrown  forward  into 
the  current  of  air  escaping  from  the  lungs,  causing  them 
to  vibrate  rapidly. 

6.  The  epiglottis.     This  is  the  lid  of  the  glottis,  pre- 
venting  foreign  bodies  from   entering   the  larynx.     The 
epiglottis  is  raised  during  the  action  of  breathing,  and 
closes  to  allow  food  to  pass  over  it  into  the  gullet. 

7.  The  soft  palate.    This  is  the  membranous,  muscular 
curtain  at  the  back  of  the  mouth,  forming  a  partition  be- 
tween the  mouth  below  and  the  nasal  passages  above  it. 
When  it  is  raised  as  high  as  possible,  it  closes  the  opening 
from  the  back  of  the  mouth  to  the  nostrils,  and  the  vocal 
current  passes  out  entirely  through  the  mouth.     When  it 
is  allowed  to  fall  upon  the  tongue,  the  passage  to  the  mouth 
is  closed,  and  the  vocal  current  escapes  by  the  nostrils, 
producing  a  nasal  tone. 

8.  The  uvula.    This  is  the  pendent  portion  of  the  soft 
palate. 

9.  The  hard  palate.     The  hard  portion  of  the  roof  of 
the  mouth  above  the  upper  teeth. 

10.  The  pharynx.     This  is  the  cavity  into  which  the 
mouth  and  nose  open. 

11.  The  diaphragm.     This  consists  of  two  muscles  and 
a  central  tendon,  forming  a  floor  on  which  the  lungs  rest 
and  partitioning  them  from  the  abdominal   organs.     To 
the  former  it  is  convex  in  shape  and  to  the  latter  concave. 
This  arch  contracts  in  inspiration,  pressing  the  abdominal 


8  HOW  TO  SPEAK  IN  PUBLIC 

organs  downward  and  outward,  thus  making  room  for  the 
increased  body  of  the  inflated  lungs.  In  expiration,  it  re- 
covers its  former  position,  thus  pushing  or  pressing  against 
the  lungs  and  drawing  the  air  out.  It  has  been  termed  the 
bellows  of  the  vocal  organs.  It  takes  a  slanting  direction 
from  the  breastbone  to  the  loins. 

12.  The  glottis.     This  is  the  mouth  of  the  larynx,  and 
is  a  membranous  or  muscular  fissure,  the  edges  of  which 
constitute  the  vocal  cords  or  glottis  lips. 

13.  The  trachea  or  windpipe.     A  cylindrical,  cartilag- 
inous  and   membranous   tube,    forming   the   common   air 
passage  to  the  lungs.     It  is  partly  situated  in  the  neck 
and  partly  in  the  chest,  and  measures  about  four  and  a 
half  inches  in  length. 

14.  The  articulative  organs  are  the  tongue,  teeth  and 
lips. 

VOCAL    HYGIENE 

In  order  to  keep  the  voice  in  the  best  condition,  strict 
obedience  must  be  paid  to  laws  for  general  health.  Care 
should  be  taken  as  to  daily  physical  exercise,  bathing,  fresh 
air,  sleep,  food  and  clothing.  A  speaker  should  never  ex- 
pose himself  to  cold  or  damp,  air  immediately  after  exer- 
cising the  voice.  Loud  and  animated  conversation,  whis- 
pering and  immoderate  laughter,  should  be  avoided.  Cold 
or  iced  drinks  are  not  good  for  the  throat,  but  if  used  they 
should  be  taken  slowly  and  in  small  quantities.  The  out- 
side throat  should  not  be  muffled,  but  hardened  by  ex- 
posure. Cultivate  the  habit  of  breathing  through  the  nose 
and  keeping  the  mouth  firmly  closed. 

Lozenges,  troches  and  drugs  are  not  generally  recom- 
mended. If  the  mouth  becomes  uncomfortably  dry  just 


BREATHING  AND  VOCAL  HYGIENE  9 

before  speaking,  the  flow  of  saliva  will  be  quickly  pro- 
moted by  chewing  a  piece  of  paper.  A  gargle  for  the 
throat,  to  be  used  night  and  morning,  is  made  of  one  pint 
of  water,  a  teaspoonful  of  salt  and  ten  drops  of  carbolic 
acid.  The  following  method  of  gargling  is  recommended: 
1st.  Raise  the  head  slightly.  2d.  Open  the  mouth  mod- 
erately. 3d.  Bring  the  lower  jaw  forward  by  raising 
the  chin.  4th.  Sound  the  vowel  e  as  in  the  word  her. 
5th.  Breathe  easily  and  regularly. 


CHAPTER   II 

VOCAL    EXPRESSION 

ARTICULATION 

Essential  to  good  speaking  and  reading  is  a  distinct  and 
correct  enunciation.  This  may  be  attained  by  daily  prac- 
tise upon  exercises  in  articulation.  The  student  will  dis- 
cover combinations  of  letters  difficult  for  him  to  produce 
and  these  should  be  practised  over  and  over  again  until 
facility  is  gained  and  a  uniformly  good  enunciation  ac- 
quired. Reading  slowly,  giving  full  play  to  the  flexibility 
of  the  tongue  and  lips,  will  aid  materially  in  securing  flu- 
ency and  accuracy. 

TABLE    OF    ELEMENTARY    SOUNDS 
WEBSTER'S     DICTIONARY 

a  ale  o  odd  1  level 

a  senate  oo  food  m  memory 

a  care  oo  foot  n  nine 

a  am  ou  out  ng  long 

a  arm  oi  oil  P  pipe 

a  ask  u  use  ph  philosophic 

a  final  u  unite  q  queen 

a  all  u  urn  r  rise 

e  eve  u  up  r  roar 

10 


VOCAL  EXPRESSION 


e 

event 

b 

bib 

s 

see 

e 

end 

c 

accept 

sh 

sheepish 

e 

fern 

ch 

chin 

t 

tart 

e 

recent 

d 

did 

th 

thin,  this 

I 

ice 

f 

fife 

V 

revive 

i 

idea 

g 

gig 

w 

wet 

i 

ill 

gh 

ghost 

X 

box 

6 

old 

h 

hat 

y 

year 

0 

obey 

J 

jug 

z 

zeal 

6 

orb 

k 

kink 

zh 

azure 

STANDARD    DICTIONARY 

a 

sofa 

0 

glory 

cw=qu  queen 

a 

arm 

e 

not 

dh 

(th)  the 

g 

ask 

e 

nor 

f 

fancy 

a 

at 

9 

actor 

g 

(hard)  go 

ft 

fare 

u 

full 

H 

loch 

a 

alloy 

u 

rule 

hw 

(wh)  why 

e 

pen 

u 

injure 

3 

jaw 

e 

added 

u 

but 

ng 

sing 

e 

moment 

fj 

burn 

n 

ink 

er 

ever 

oi 

pine 

n 

bon 

e 

fate 

au 

out 

s 

sin 

e 

usage 

oi 

oil 

sh 

she 

i 

tin 

iu 

few 

th 

thin        • 

i 

eve 

iu 

duration 

ii 

dune 

I 

retail 

iu 

feature 

z 

zone 

o 

obey 

c= 

k  cat 

zh 

azure 

cb 

church 

12 


HOW  TO  SPEAK  IN  PUBLIC 


LIST  OF  WORDS  FOR  PRACTISE 


LONG  ITALIAN  a 

calm 

ah 

aunt 

half 

flaunt 

palm 

heart 

launch 

almond 

haunt 

balm 

father 

laundry 

gape 

lava 

arm 

suave 

guard 

laughter 

promenade 

SHORT  ITALIAN  a 

ask 

grass 

dance 

master 

surpass 

pass 

slant 

chant 

draught 

enhance 

grasp 

after 

class 

basket 

advantage 

cast 

pastor 

advance 

staff 

command 

COALESCENT 

a 

• 

care 

share 

there 

chair 

scare 

fair 

prayer 

bear 

ne'er 

various 

spare 

rare 

swear 

parent 

ensnare 

ere 

declare 

tear 

air 

pair 

COALESCENT 

e 

sir 

were 

earn 

bird 

serge 

mercy 

verse 

nerve 

germ 

versatile 

pearl 

certain 

thirsty 

earth 

learn 

first 

perch 

ermine 

mirth 

verge 

LONG  U 

due 

tune 

suit 

stupid 

lieu 

new 

pursue 

Tuesday 

neuter 

tube 

institute 

tulip 

numeral 

tumult 

lucid 

dubious 

duet 

maturity 

duty 

tutor 

VOCAL  EXPRESSION 


13 


th,    THE   BREATH   SOUND 


bath 
thesis 
amethyst 
throw 


lath 
truths 
width 
thrust 


oath 
youths 
thwart 
thud 


mouth 
apathy 
thing 
thick 


sixth 

thousandth 
think 
length 


th,  THE  VOICE  SOUND 


with 
these 
that 
father 


booth 
there 
scythe 
northern 


paths 
tho 

smooth 
wreath 


laths 
their 
thence 
either 


hither 
this 

breathe 
them 


Id,  1m,  nd,  bid,  ngdst 

bold  helm  land  troubled  bangMst 

told  film  bend  doubled  wrong'dst 

sold  whelm  and  crumbled  hang'dst 

cold  elm  send  humbled  throng'dst 


peregrination 

parallelogram 

atmospherical 

circumambient 

plenipotentiary 

momentarily 

ratiocination 

chronological 

unintelligibility 

consanguinity 

incomparably 

encyclopediacal 


dichlorotetrahydroxybenzene 


SYLLABICATION 

idiosyncrasy 

instrumentality 

indissolubly 

pacificatory 

necessarily 

disingenuousness 

lugubrious 

coagulation 

irrefragability 

colloquially 

trigonometrical 

susceptibility 


temporarily 

antitrinitarian 

valetudinarianism 

multiplication 

incommensurability 

dietetically 

monocotyledonous 

disciplinarian 

deterioration 

authoritatively 

inexplicable 

congratulatory 


14 


HOW  TO  SPEAK  IN  PUBLIC 


ARTICULATION    EXERCISES 

Practise  slowly  at  first,  then  gradually  increase  until  the 
various  combinations  can  be  uttered  with  great  rapidity : 


ba-p§ 
ba-pa 

be-pe 
be-pe 

bi-pi 
bi-pi 

bo-po 
bo-po 

bu-pu 
bu-pu 

boo-poo 
boo-poo 

boi-poi 
bou-pou 

da-ta 
da-ta 

de-te 
de-te 

di-ti 

di-ti 

do-to 
do-to 

du-tu 
du-tii     , 

doo-too 
doo-too 

doi-toi 
dou-tou 

ga-ka 
ga-ka 

ge-ke 
ge-ke 

gi-ki 
gi-ki 

go-ko 
go-ko 

gu-ku 
gu-kii 

goo-koo. 
goo-koo 

goi-koi 
gou-kou 

ja-cha 
ja-cha  . 

je-che 
je-che 

jl-chi 
ji-chi 

jo-cho. 
jo-cho 

ju-chu 
ju-chu 

joo-choo 
joo-choo 

joi-choi 
jou-chou 

tha-tha 

tha-tha 

the-the 
the-the 

thi-thi 
thi-thi 

tbo-tho 
tho-tho 

thu-thu 
thu-thu 

thoo-thoo 
thoo-thoo 

thoi-thoi 
tbou-thou 

va-fa 
va-fa 

ve-fe 
vg-fe 

vi-fi 

Vl-fi 

vo-fo 
vo-fo 

\-u-fu 
vu-fii 

voo-foo 
voo-foo 

voi-foi 
vou-fou 

za-sa 
za-sa 

ze-se 
ze-se 

zi-si 

Zl-Sl 

zo-so 
zo-so 

zu-su 
zu-su 

zoo-soo 
zoo-soo 

zoi-soi 
zou-sou 

zha-sha 
zha-sha 

zhe-she 
zhe-she 

zhi-shi 
zhi-shl 

zho-sho 
zho-sho 

zhu-shu 
zhu-shu 

zhoo-shoo 
zhoo-slioo 

zhoi-shoi 
zhou-sliou 

Also  bl,  br,  dr,  fl,  fr,  gl,  gr,kl,  kf,pl,  pr,  si,  sm,  sn,  sp,  spl,  st,  str,  thr,  tr. 
FOR  THE  JAWS  AND  UPS 

e 


ah 


'00 


Pronounce  e  with  extreme  extension  of  the  lips  sidewise. 
Pronounce  all  with  the  jaw  well  dropped. 


VOCAL  EXPRESSION  15 

Pronounce  oo  with  the  lips  projected  as  much  as  possible. 
Repeat  rapidly :  e-ah-oo;  oo-ah-e;  oo-e-ah;  ah-e-oo;  ah-oo- 
e;  e-oo-ah. 

FOR  THE  LIPS,    TONGUE   AND  PALATE 


it* Mk 


There  should  be  a  sudden  recoil  of  the  lips  in  ip,  of  the 
tip  of  the  tongue  in  it,  and  of  the  back  of  the  tongue  in  ik. 

Repeat  rapidly.    Also  with  ib,  id  and  ig. 
For  elasticity: 

Jaw.  Relax  jaw.  Move  from  side  to  side  and  forward 
and  back.  Repeat  while  singing  ah. 

Throat.  •  Open  the  mouth  as  in  yawning.  Gently  raise 
the  soft  palate.  Practise  will  enable  the  pupil  to  contract 
the  uvula  as  to  make  it  entirely  disappear  from  sight. 

Tongue.  Open  the  mouth,  keeping  the  tongue  flat,  with 
tip  lightly  touching  the  lower  teeth.  Without  arching  the 
tongue  thrust  it  straight  forward  and  draw  it  back  as  far 
as  possible  several  times. 

Again  open  the  mouth  wide,  and  in  dotting  fashion  con- 
tinue with  the  tongue  along  the  upper  and  lower  lips. 
Reverse. 

Fold  back  tip  of  tongue  with  the  aid  of  the  teeth. 

Groove  tongue. 

Make  lapping  movement  of  the  tongue. 


16  HOW  TO  SPEAK  IN  PUBLIC 

To  depress  the  base  of  the  tongue,  carry  the  point  of  the 
tongue  forward  between  the  teeth;  then  draw  the  whole 
tongue  vigorously  backward,  as  if  trying  to  swallow  it. 

Trill  aspirate  r. 

Trill  vocal  r. 

Repeat  running  up  and  down  scale. 

Larynx.  Raise  the  larynx  to  its  utmost  height  and 
lower  it  to  its  greatest  depth.  Swallowing  will  help  it  to 
ascend  and  gaping  to  descend. 

Lips.  Open  the  mouth  and  bring  the  lips  together 
quickly  and  firmly,  aiming  at  equal  pressure. 

With  lips  tightly  closed,  compress  the  breath  against  lips 
and  cheeks,  resisting  with  these  muscles  and  finally  forcing 
the  lips  open. 

MISCELLANEOUS   EXERCISES 

1.  Reading  and  writing  are  arts  of  striking  importance. 

2.  Twanged  short  and  sharp  like  the  shrill  swallow's  cry. 

3.  The  clumsy  kitchen  clock  click  clicked. 

4.  A  big  black  bug  bit  a  big  black  bear. 

5.  Geese  cackle,  cattle  low,  crows  caw,  cocks  crow. 

6.  Good  blood,  bad  blood.     (Repeat.) 

7.  A  blue  trip  slip  for  an  eight-cent  fare, 
A  buff  trip  slip  for  a  six-cent  fare, 

A  pink  trip  slip  for  a  three-cent  fare. 

8.  Bring  me  some  ice,  not  some  mice. 

9.  Make  clean  our  hearts. 

10.  The  old  cold  scold  sold  a  school  coal  scuttle. 

11.  He  sawed  six  long  slim  sleek  slender  saplings. 

12.  Thrice  six  thick  thistle  sticks  thrust  straight  through  three 
throbbing  thrushes. 

13.  Goodness  centers  in  the  heart. 

14.  He  spoke  reasonably,  philosophically,  disinterestedly,  and 
yet  particularly,  of  the  unceremoniousness  of  their  communicabil- 


VOCAL  EXPRESSION  17 

ity,  and  peremptorily,  authoritatively,  unhesitatingly  declared  it 
to  be  wholly  inexplicable. 

15.  Pillercatter,    tappekiller,    kitterpaller,    patterkiller,    cater- 
pillar. 

16.  What  whim  led  White  Whitney  to  whittle,  whistle,  whisper 
and  whimper  near  the  wharf,  where  a  floundering  whale  might 
wheel  and  whirl? 

17.  I  said  mixed  biscuits,  not  bixed  miscuits. 

18.  Little  ache,  little  lake. 

19.  Her  age,  her  rage. 

20.  Thou  bridPdst  thy  tongue,  wreath'dst  thy  lips  with  smiles, 
imprison'dst  thy  wrath,  and  truckTdst  to  thine  enemy's  power. 

21.  An  inalienable  eligibility  of  election  which  was  of  indispu- 
table authority,  rendered  the  interposition  of  his  friends  altogether 
supererogatory. 

22.  A  ripe  pear,  a  black  cow,  a  fat  turtle. 

23.  Ceaseth,  approacheth,  rejoiceth.     (Repeat.) 

24.  A  blush  is  a  temporary  eletheme  and  calorific  effulgence  of 
the  physiognomy  ocliologised  by  the  perceptiveness  of  the  sen- 
sorium  when  a  predicament  of  unequilibrity  from  a  sense  of 
shame,   anger,  or  other  cause  eventuating  in   a  paresis  of  the 
uasomotor  filaments  of  the  facial  capillaries  where,  being  divested 
of  their  elasticity,  they  are  suffused  with  radiant,  aerated,  com- 
pound nutritive  circulating  liquid  emanating  from  an  intimidated 
proecordia. 

25.  Not  long  since  a  robust,  disputative  collegian,  his  clothes 
of  the  latest  Pall  Mall  cut,  his  carmine  bifurcated  necktie  orna- 
mented with  a  solitaire,  his  hair  dressed  with  oleomargarine  and 
perfumed  with  ambergris,  his  face  innocent  of  hirsute  adornment, 
but  his  mouth  guilty  of  nicotine,  informed  a  senile,  splenetic 
lawyer  that  he  did  not  pronounce  according  to  the  dictionary. 

"For,"  observed  the  young  man,  with  an  air  of  research,  "in 
your  Tuesday's  address  you  said  that  the  sight  of  cerements  suf- 
ficed to  enervate  an  attorney ;  that  a  salamander  treated  for  obesity 
with  prussic  acid  and  pomegranate  rind  was  disinclined  to  serpen- 
tine movements;  that  in  an  Aldine  edition  of  a  legal  work  you 
read  of  a  lugubrious  man  afflicted  with  virulent  varioloid .  and 
bronchitis,  for  which  a  jocund  allopathist  injected  iodine  and 


18  HOW  TO  SPEAK  IN  PUBLIC 

cayenne  pepper  with  a  syringe  warmed  in  a  caldron  of  tepid  sirup 
— a  malpractise  suit  being  the  result.  By  the  way,  you  have  a 
dictionary  ?  " 

"Dictionary?  "  replied  the  lawyer;  "pugh!  It  is  a  granary  from 
which  the  pronunciation  fiend  fills  his  commissariat  with  orthoepic 
romances  and  vagaries  which,  to  him,  grow  into  a  philologic 
fetish;  and  this  fetishism  finds  outward  expression  in  a  supercil- 
ious ostentation  of  erudite  vacuity." 

Nothing  daunted,  the  young  man  continued:  "You  said,  'Ac- 
cording to  precedent  it  was  obligatory  upon  him  to  plait  his  hair 
as  his  Nomad  parents  had  done,  but  instead  he,  precedent  to 
stepping  under  the  mistletoe,  indulged  in  fulsome  praise  of  him- 
self, hoping  thereby  to  induce  a  favorite  girl  to  join  him.  But 
she,  being  averse  to  undergo  an  ordeal  so  embarrassing,  refused; 
whereupon  his  features  became  immobile  with  chagrin.'  This  is 
a  verbatim  quotation.  You  sometimes  consult  a  dictionary  ?  " 

"Young  man,"  retorted  the  lawyer,  his  aquiline  nose  quivering 
with  derisive  disdain,  "I  have  no  use  for  a  dictionary." 

"Pardon  me,  your  pronunciation  indicates  the  contrary;  thus, 
in  your  peroration  this  occurs:  'An  incognito  communist,  being 
commandant  on  the  frontier,  in  one  of  his  hunting  expeditions 
came  upon  an  Indian,  who,  to  the  accompaniment  of  the  soughing 
wind,  was  softly  playing  a  flageolet,  for  the  purpose  of  quieting 
a  wounded  hydrophobic  Bengal  tiger,  which,  penned  up  in  a  hovel, 
was  making  hideous  grimaces. 

"  'The  Colonel's  companion,  a  comely  but  truculent  Malay,  act- 
ing as  seneschal  or  pursuivant,  suggested  houghing  the  rampant 
animal,  or  giving  it  some  dynamite,  morphine,  and  saline  yeast. 

"  'A  noose  was  adjusted,  and  the  nauseous  dose  administered, 
whereupon  the  combative  tiger,  thus  harassed,  coming  in  prema- 
ture contact  with  a  dilapidated  divan,  bade  adieu  to  things  sub- 
lunary/ You  have  a  dictionary  ?  " 

The  old  man,  angered  at  the  raillery  of  this  question,  and  at  the 
cherubic  smile  of  superiority  with  which  it  was  asked,  launched 
forth  in  an  objurgatory  tirade,  insisting  that  he  did  not  regard 
himself  sacrificable  to  the  juggernaut  of  orthoepy. 


VOCAL   EXPRESSION  19 

EXERCISES   IN   ALLITERATION 

1.  Amos  Ames,  the  amiable  aeronaut,  aided  in  an  aerial  enter- 
prise at  the  age  of  eighty-eight. 

2.  Benjamin  Bramble  Blimber,  a  blundering  banker,  borrowed 
the  baker's  birchen  broom  to  brush  the  blinding  cobwebs  from 
his  brain. 

3.  Caius  Cassius  contrived  concatenating  circumstances  caus- 
ing chivalrous  Caesar's  citation. 

4.  Deaf  doddering  Daniel  Dunderhead  dictated  difficult  didac- 
tic disingenuousness. 

5.  Extraordinary  and  excessive  irritability  was  exhibited  by 
these  execrable  people. 

6.  Flags  fluttered  fretfully  from  foreign  fortifications  and 
fleets. 

7.  Gibeon   Gordon   Grelglow,   the   great   Greek   grammarian, 
graduated  at  Grilgrove  College. 

8.  Henry  Hingham  has  hung  his  harp  on  the  hook  where  he 
hitherto  hung  his  hope. 

9.  Imbecile  Irwin  indefatigably  inculcated  inveterate  isolation. 
Incomprehensible  incommunicability. 

10.  Jasper,  the  jolly  juror,  justly  joked  John,  the  journalist. 

11.  Kemuel  Kirkham  Kames  cruelly  kept  the  kiss  that  his 
cousin  Catherine  Kennedy  cried  for. 

12.  A  lily  lying  all  alone  along  the  lane. 

13.  Morose  mariners  and  magnanimous  men  make  much  mag- 
netism. 

14.  Nine  neutral  nations  negotiated  numerous  nuptials. 

15.  Obstructionists  and  oppressors  often  opposed  operations. 

16.  Peter  Piper  picked  a  peck  of  pickled  peppers.     Now  if 
Peter  Piper  picked  a  peck  of  pickled  peppers,  where  are  the 
pickled  peppers  that  Peter  Piper  picked? 

17.  Querulous  quips  were  quoted  by  quiet  Queenie  Quilp. 

18.  Round   the  rough   and  rugged  rocks   the  ragged   rascals 
rudely  ran. 

19.  She  sells  sea-shells;  shall  he  sell  sea-shells? 

20.  Theophilus  Thistle,  the  successful  thistle  sifter,  in  sifting 
a  sieve  full  of  unsifted  thistles,  thrust  three  thousand  thistles 
through  the  thick  of  his  thumb.    Now  if  Theophilus  Thistle,  the 


20 


HOW  TO  SPEAK  IN  PUBLIC 


successful  thistle  sifter,  in  sifting  a  sieve  full  of  unsifted  thistles, 
thrust  three  thousand  thistles  through  the  thick  of  his  thumb,  see 
that  thou,  in  sifting  a  sieve  full  of  unsifted  thistles,  thrust  not 
three  thousand  thistles  through  the  thick  of  thy  thumb.  Success 
to  the  successful  thistle  sifter. 

21.  Unwise,  unjust  and  unmerciful  university  usages. 

22.  Vivian's  vernacular  gives  vividness  to  every  verse. 

23.  How  much  wood  would  a  woodchuck  chuck,  if  a  woodchuck 
would  chuck  wood? 

24.  Xanthians  Xebeced  xantic  xylographers. 

25.  Yelled  and  yelped  the  yeoman's  youngsters  in  yesterday's 
yacht  and  yawl. 

26.  Zig-zaged  zinc  zones  and  zithers. 

WORDS  FREQUENTLY  MISPRONOUNCED 


abdomen 

abject 

accept 

acclimate 

acumen 

adamantine 

address 

adept 

bade 

banquet 

bayonet 

because 

been 

calisthenics 

calm 

candelabrum 

canine 

carmine 

cayenne 

cello 

cerement 

chalybeate 


adieu 

alternate 

adult 

amenable 

advertisement 

aniline 

again 
aggrandizement 
ailment 
allied 

apparatus 
apparent 
aquiline 
area^ 

allopathist 

asphalt 

betroth 
bicycle 
bijou 
biography 
bitumen 

blackguard 
blouse 
bounteous 
bouquet 
bravado 

chasm 

combatant 

chasten 

commandant 

chastisement 

comment 

clangor 
clematis 
clique 
coadjutor 
cognomen 
column 

communist 
compeer 
composite 
condolence 
consummate 
contemplate 

associate 

athlete 

attorney 

auxiliary 

awry 


brigand 

bronchitis 

burlesque 


contents 

contrary 

contumely 

conversant 

coterie 

courtesy 


VOCAL  EXPRESSION 


21 


daguerreotype 

depot 

direct 

dolorous 

data 

depths 

disciplinary 

domain 

decade 

designate 

discourse 

due 

decadence 

desperado 

disputant 

duke 

defalcate 

despicable 

divan 

duty 

deficit 

desuetude 

docile 

demoniacal 

detail 

dog 

egregious 

envelope 

examine 

exploit 

elongate 

epoch 

excess 

exponent 

encore 

equitable 

exemplary 

exquisite 

enervate 

escapade 

exigencies 

extant 

enquiry 

every 

exist 

facade 

feline 

fiasco 

forensic 

facet 

feminine 

fidelity 

fragmentary 

factory 

ferocity 

finance 

frontier 

faucet 

fertile 

financier 

fecund 

fetish 

flageolet 

. 

gape 

gigantic 

granary 

grovel 

generic 

God 

gratis 

gymnasium 

genial 

gondola 

gr.ievous 

genuine 

government 

grimace 

harass 

hideous 

hostage 

hygiene 

hearth 

homage 

hover 

hypocrisy  - 

height 

homeopathic 

humble 

heinous 

horizon 

humor 

illustrate 

incentive 

inexplicable 

interpolate 

imbecile 

incomparable 

inquiries 

intrinsic 

impious 

indefatigable 

integral 

iodine 

implacable 

indisputably 

interested 

irrefragable 

importune 

indissoluble 

interesting 

22 
jocose 

kept 


HOW  TO  SPEAK  IN  PUBLIC 

jocund  juvenile 


kiln 


kinetics 


lamentable 
larynx 
laugh 
learned 

legend 
lenient 
lettuce 
lineament 

listen 
lithography 
livelong 
lozenge 

lugubrious 
lyceum 

magazine 
manufactory 
maritime 
matinee 

mediocre 
mineralogy 
mischievous 
misconstrue 

mobile 
molecule 
municipal 
museum 

mustache 

nascent 
national 
nature 

nauseate 
necessarily 
nephew 

nepotism 
neuralgia 
new 

niche 
nicotine 
nomenclature 

oasis 
oaths 
obesity 
object 
objurgatory 

obligatory 
occult 
o'er 
office 
often 

oleomargarine 
orchid 
ordeal 
ordnance 
ornate 

orotund 
orthoepy 
oust 

palmistry 
patriotism 
patron 
patronize 
peremptory 
piano 

piquant 
placard 
plagiarism 
pomegranate 
predecessor 
preface 

premature 
prestige 
pretense 
primarily 
progress 
proscenium 

protestation 
puissance 
pyramidal 

quadrupedal         quiescent 


quinsy 


qui  vive 


VOCAL  EXPRESSION 


23 


radish 

reconnaissance 

reptile 

rhythm 

rapine 

recreant 

requiem 

robust 

receptivity 

refutable 

research 

romance 

recess 

regime 

resource 

route 

recluse 

remonstrate 

respite 

salutatory 

serpentine 

sonorous 

squalor 

sapient 

simultaneous 

sophistry 

succinct  &+* 

satiety 

sinecure 

soporific 

suggest 

schedule 

sirup 

sovereign 

suite 

secretary 

sojourn 

splenetic 

supererogatory 

senile 

solitaire 

spontaneity 

superfluous 

tenet 

toward 

tribune 

tyrannic 

tepid 

transact 

trilobite 

testimony 

tremendous 

truculent 

topography 

tribunal 

truth 

umbrella 

untoward 

usage 

usurp 

uninteresting 

urbanity 

vagary 

veracity 

version 

virulent 

vaseline 

verbatim 

via 

visor 

vaudeville 

verbose 

vicar 

vehement 

versatile 

victory 

which 

with 

wrath 

wreak 

whistle 

wound 

xylophone 

- 

youth 

zenith 

zodiacal 

zoology 

24  HOW  TO  SPEAK  IN  PUBLIC 

VOCAL    DEFECTS 

The  defects  most  commonly  found  in  untrained  voices 
are  breathiness,  throatiness,  and  nasality.  The  following 
exercises,  if  practised  persistently,  will  remedy  these 
defects : 

Breathiness.  This  is  caused  by  allowing  breath  to  escape 
unvocalized.  The  remedy  lies  in  applying  to  the  vocal 
cords  just  the  quantity  of  breath  required  to  produce  a 
given  tone.  It  should  be  noted  that  clear  and  robust  sounds 
depend  upon  breathing  gently. 

1.  Inhale  deeply.     Exhale  on  singing  ah.     Apply  the 
air  very  gently  to  the  vocal  cords,  hold  back  the  unused 
breath  and  aim  to  increase  the  purity  of  tone. 

2.  Count  one  to  ten  in  a  loud  whisper,  inhaling  after 
each  number.     Repeat  with  half  breath  and  half  voice. 
Repeat  with  pure  tone.    Project  into  the  distance. 

3.  Practise  the  following  in  pure,  clear-cut  voice:  hup, 
he,  ha,  haw,  hah,  ho,  hoo. 

Throatiness.  This  defect  arises  from  smallness  of  throat 
or  rigidity.  First,  relax  the  throat  muscles  and  practise 
exercises  for  depressing  the  root  of  the  tongue,  raising  the 
soft  palate  and  lowering  the  larynx.  Practise  the  various 
tongue  exercises,  keeping  the  lips  perfectly  still.  Sing 
oo-oh-ah  in  well-projected  voice.  Sing  le,  la,  law,  lah,  lo, 
loo. 

Nasality.  When  the  vocal  current  is  allowed  to  escape 
through  the  nostrils,  a  nasal  tone  is  produced.  To  avoid 
this,  the  soft  palate  must  be  well  raised  and  the  tone  pro- 
jected directly  towards  the  lips. 


VOCAL  EXPRESSION  25 

1.  With  soft  palate  raised  sing  ah  and  oh  in  pure  pro- 
jected tone. 

2.  With  the  thumb  and  first  finger  gently  close  the  nos- 
trils and  pronounce  several  times  with  the  utmost  nasality: 
"0  precious  hours."    Keep  the  nostrils  closed  and  try  to 
repeat  with  a  pure  tone.    Repeat  with  nostrils  open. 


CHAPTER   III 

VOICE     CULTURE 

PURITY 

To  secure  purity  of  voice,  no  particle  of  breath  must  be 
allowed  to  escape  unvocalized.  A  persistent  effort  should 
be  made  to  produce  this  quality,  at  first  ''feeding"  the 
breath  very  gently  to  the  vocal  cords  and  increasing  the 
volume  only  after  long  practise.  ' '  He  is  the  best  speaker, ' ' 
says  Lennox  Browne,  "who  can  control  the  expiration, 
that  the  least  possible  amount  of  air  sufficient  to  cause 
vibration  is  poured  with  continuous  effect  upon  the  vocal 
organs. ' ' 

1.  Sing  oo  in  gentle,  smooth  voice,  avoiding  unnecessary 
muscular  effort. 

2.  Sing  ah,  with  mouth  well  opened,  aiming  at  purity, 
depth  and  smoothness.     Sustain   and  repeat  on  various 
pitches. 

3.  Repeat  with  o. 

4.  Gradually  change  singing  o  to  ah,  maintaining  a 
uniform  quality  throughout. 

5.  Repeat  with  oo-o-ah. 

6.  Practise  various  musical  scales. 

7.  Pronounce  e,  a,  aw,  ah,  o,  oo,  prolonging  each  ten  or 
more  seconds. 

8.  Repeat  with  rising,  falling,  and  circumflex  inflection. 

9.  Practise  shock  of  the  glottis  in  gup,  ge,  ga,  gaw,  gah, 
go,  goo. 

96 


VOICE  CULTURE  27 

10.  Repeat  in  hup,  he,  ha,  haw,  hah,  ho,  hoo. 

11.  Eepeat  with  rising  slide  and  with  falling  slide,  aim- 
ing at  great  clearness. 

12.  Count  very  deliberately  one  to  fifty,  inhaling  after 
each  number. 

13.  Count  to  fifty,  ten  to  each  breath. 

14.  Eepeat  last  two  exercises  in  loud  whisper. 

15.  Project  by  slight  waves  of  sound  woo-woo-woo-woo. 

16.  Toss  the  sounds  e,  a,  aw,  ah,  oh,  oo. 

17.  With  mouth  closed  hum  a  mental  maw.    The  vibra- 
tion should  be  felt  on  the  lips  and  in  the  facial  resonators. 

18.  Repeat  with  bright  and  with  sad  vibrations. 

19.  Repeat  in  very  low  pitch. 

20.  Commence   a  humming  tone   as  before,   allow  the 
lower  jaw  to  drop  gently,  "focus'*  the  voice  on  the  lips 
and  maintain  as  much  facial  resonance  as  possible. 

21.  Sing  le,  la,  law,  lah,  lo,  loo,  singly  and  in  combina- 
tion. 

22.  Yawn  e,  a,  aw,  ah,  o,  oo. 

FLEXIBILITY   AND    COMPASS 

Flexibility  means  vocal  responsiveness,  or  the  ability  to 
produce  any  tone  or  variation  that  may  be  required. 

1.  Sing  e,  a,  aw,  ah,  o,  oo  in  chromatic  scale,  from  the 
lowest  to  the  highest  pitch.     The  use  of  a  piano  in  these 
exercises  is  desirable. 

2.  Repeat  with  trill. 

3.  Repeat  with  tremolo. 


28  HOW  TO  SPEAK  IN  PUBLIC 

4.  Repeat  in  speaking  voice,  with  short,  medium,  long 
and  very  long  rising  inflection.     Repeat  in  falling  and 
circumflex  inflection. 

5.  Repeat  with   gradually  increasing   force,   and  with 
gradually  diminishing  force. 

6.  Repeat  with  swell,  one  pitch  at  a  time,  then  combined 
with  change  of  inflection  both  rising  and  falling. 

7.  Commence  the  following  upon*  a  low  pitch,  reading 
each  successive  line  in  the  next  highest  pitch: 

0  thou  that  roll'st  above, 
Round  as  the  shield  of  my  fathers! 
Whence  are  thy  beams,  0  sun! 
Thy  everlasting  light? 

8.  Commence  the  following  at  lowest  pitch,  giving  to 
each   word   a   short   rising   slide   on   successively   higher 
pitches;  aim  at  smoothness,  and  gradually  increase  length 
of  inflections: 

breath? 
fleeting 
the 
call 

mansion 
its 
to 

back 
bust 

animated 
or 
urn 
storied 
Can 


VOICE  CULTURE 
9.    Repeat  the  following  with  falling  slides: 


Can 


honor's 
voice 

provoke 
the 


silent 
dust 


or 


flattery 
soothe 
the 


10. 


that 


An  old  clock 


stood 
for 

had  fifty 
years 
in  a 
farmer's 
kitchen 
without 
giving 
its 

owner 
any 
cause 
of 
complaint 


dull 


cold 


ear 


of 


death? 


early 

one 

summer's 

morning        suddenly  stopped. 

before 

the 

family 

was 


stirring 


30  HOW  TO  SPEAK  IN  PUBLIC 

BRILLIANCY 

To  secure  brilliancy  or  a  musical  quality  of  voice,  practise 
daily  upon  exercises  containing  long  vowel  sounds. 

1.    Hear  the  mellow  wedding  bells — 

Golden  bells! 

What  a  world  of  happiness  their  harmony  foretells ! 
Through  the  balmy  air  of  night 
How  they  ring  out  their  delight 
From  the  molten-golden  notes, 

And  all  in  tune! — 
Oh,  from  out  the  sounding  cells, 
What  a  gush  of  euphony  voluminously  wells! 
How  it  swells! 
How  it  dwells 
On  the  future!  how  it  tells 
Of  the  rapture  that  impels 
To  the  swinging  and  the  ringing 
Of  the  bells,  bells,  bells,  bells, 

Bells,  bells,  bells— 
To  the  rhyming  and  the  chiming  of  the  bells ! 

2.  Inhale  deeply,   force  the  breath  against  the  closed 
lips  until  they  burst  open  on  the  word  "bell,"  prolonging 
the  "1"  as  long  as  possible  and  allowing  the  tone  to  gradu- 
ally die  away  in  imitation  of  bell  vibrations.    Repeat  with 
variations. 

3.  Laughing  exercises  will  add  brilliancy  and  strength 
to  the  voice. 

Practise  m-m-m-m-m-m-hoo-hoo-hoo-hoo-hoo-hoo-ho-ho-ho- 
Jio-Jio-ho-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha.  Aim  to  produce  a  hearty,  spon- 
taneous laugh.  Practise  with  varied  feeling,  such  as  merry, 
rippling,  polite,  silly,  angry,  appreciative,  sad,  scornful,  etc. 


VOICE  CULTURE  31 

4.    Practise  the  following  with  great  freedom: 

Hurrah !       Hurrah ! 

Hurrah !  Hurrah 

Hurrah !  Hurrah ! 

RESONANCE 

Resonance  is  the  increase  of  sound  by  reflection  or  the 
co- vibration  of  other  bodies.  Exercises  should  be  selected 
containing  a  redundance  of  open  vowels. 

1.  Open  the  mouth  and  throat  as  wide  as  possible,  in- 
hale deeply,  close  the  lips  only,  and  endeavor  to  keep  the 
throat  open.    Imagine  the  body  a  deep  well  and  commence 
at  its  lowest  depth  a  soft  rumbling  sound.    Practise  at  first 
on  low  pitch;  force  and  high  pitch  are  to  be  added  only 
after  some  time. 

2.  Repeat  with  rising  inflection  awe,  ah,  e,  noting  the 
change  in  register.     The  first  is  a  chest-tone,  the  second  a 
throat-tone  and  the  third  a  head-tone.    Begin  at  low  pitch 
and  aim  at  smoothness.    Repeat  with  falling  and  circumflex 
inflection. 

3.  Hum  b,  I  and  m,  singly  and  in  combination. 

4.  Pronounce  the  following  words  on  various  pitches, 
bringing  out  the  head  resonance  as  much  as  possible :  Bin- 
gle,  dingle,  jingle,  mingle,  ringle,  single,  tingle,  Tdingle. 

,,  i  "i  / 

VOLUME 

Volume  depends  upon  the  extension  and  regularity  of 
expiration,  energy  and  resonance  combined  in  a  given  tone. 
The  voice  grows  with  use,  and  daily  practise  is  therefore 
necessary  to  acquire  roundness  and  volume.  The  abdom- 


32  HOW  TO  SPEAK  IN  PUBLIC 

inal  muscles  should  be  developed  by  daily  respiratory  and 
physical  exercises. 

1.  Inhale  deeply,  and  with  an  abrupt  action  of  the  ab- 
dominal muscles  explode  the  voice  upon  ~be,  ba,  ~baw,  bah, 
bo,  boo.    Avoid  using  much  force  at  first. 

2.  The  following  should  be  combined  with  the  same 
vowel  sounds,  first  in  loud  whisper,  then  in  loud  voice,  ex- 
hau^ting  the  breath  on  each  sound:   P,  t,  d,  v,  k,  bl,  br, 
ch,  dr,  dw,  ft,  fr,  gl,  gr,  Id,  kr,  pi,  pr,  si,  sm,  sn,  sp,  sq,  sk, 
sh,  st,  sw,  tr,  th,  tw,  wh. 

3.  In  calling  tone  repeat: 

Ship  ahoy! 

Thou,  too,  sail  on,  0  Ship  of  State. 

Forward  the  Light  Brigade! 

Charge,  Chester,  charge! 

On,  Stanley,  on! 

Katherine,  Queen  of  England,  come  into  the  Court. 

Stand  by  the  wheel  five  minutes  yet  and  we  will  reach  the  shore. 

Oyez !  oyez !  All-persons-having-business-to-do-with-the-Circuit- 
Court-of-the-United-States-for-the-Southern-district-of-New-York- 
draw-near-give-your-attention-and-you-shall-be-heard. 

Char-coal.    Char-co-al.    Char-coooooooo-al. 

4.  Project  the  following: 

It  is  the  King.  Over,  over  I  say. 

Every  inch  a  King.  Up  from  the  south. 

At  this  moment.  The  King  would  speak. 

Armor  on  his  back.  Eagle  has  seen  it. 

State  the  State.  The  Queen  of  Cities. 

On,  ye  brave.  Imperial  theme. 

5.  Repeat  the  following  with  gradually  increasing  force : 

The  war  must  go  on ! 
We  must  fight  it  through. 


VOICE  CULTURE  33 

Independence  now  and  Independence  forever! 
Now  for  the  fight,  now  for  the  cannon  peal. 
The  foe!  they  come!  they  come! 

Ye  guards  of  liberty,  I'm  with  you  once  again.    I  call  to  you 
with  all  my  voice. 


CHAPTER   IV 

MODULATION 

Modulation  has  reference  to  the  means  of  varying  the 
voice  so  as  to  express  thought  with  truth  and  effectiveness. 
The  principal  modulations  are  quality,  pitch,  time,  inflec- 
tion and  force. 

QUALITY 

Quality  may  be  described  as  the  character  of  the  speak- 
ing voice,  and  for  convenience  is  divided  into  two  kinds: 
Pure  and  Impure.  Pure  quality  is  subdivided  into  Simple 
Pure  and  Orotund,  while  Impure  quality  is  divided  into 
Aspirated,  Oral,  Falsetto,  Guttural  and  Pectoral. 

Simple  pure  voice  is  the  quality  used  in  conversation.  It 
can  be  readily  cultivated  by  practising  the  exercises  given 
under  the  head  of  purity  in  Chapter  III.  The  pure  qualities 
should  be  acquired  before  proceeding  to  the  impure. 

Orotund  is  marked  by  unusual  roundness  and  fulness  of 
tone.  Daily  practise  on  the  vowel  "0,"  with  variety  in 
pitch  and  force,  will  materially  assist  the  student  in  secur- 
ing this  quality.  It  is  used  to  express  sublime  and  deeply 
earnest  thought. 

Aspirated  quality  is  used  to  express  fear,  secrecy,  sur- 
prise, caution  and  kindred  emotions. 

Oral  quality  is  that  of  weakness. 

Falsetto  is  employed  in  imitating  the  voices  of  children, 
women,  old  age,  etc. 

34 


MODULATION  35 

Guttural  is  used  in  language  of  revenge,  anger,  horror, 
aversion. 

Pectoral  quality  is  a  deep  hollow  chest-tone,  used  in  ex- 
pressing awe,  remorse,  deep  terror. 

The  whisper  is  sometimes  used  to  express  secrecy,  fear, 
caution.  Exercises  in  whisper  will  rapidly  develop  strength 
of  voice. 

SIMPLE   PURE 

1.    Oh  young  Lochinvar  is  come  out  of  the  West. 

Through  all  the  wide  border  his  steed  was  the  best; 

And,  save  his  good  broadsword,  he  weapons  had  none; 

He  rode  all  unarmed  and  he  rode  all  alone. 

So  faithful  in  love,  and  so  dauntless  in  war, 

There  never  was  knight  like  the  young  Lochinvar. 
"Lochinvar's  Ride."  H^.  SIR  WALTER  SCOTT. 

2.    How  sweet  the  moonlight  sleeps  upon  this  bank; 
Here  will  we  sit,  and  let  the  sound  of  music 
Creep  in  our  ears;  soft  stillness  and  the  night 
Become  the  touches  of  sweet  harmony. 
"Merchant  of  Venice."  SHAKESPEARE. 

3.    The  splendor  falls  on  castle  walls, 

And  snowy  summits  old  in  story; 
The  long  light  shakes  across  the  lakes, 
And  the  wild  cataract  leaps  in  glory. 
"Bugle  Song."  TENNYSON. 

4.  I  should  think  myself  a  criminal,  if  I  said  anything  to  chill 
the  enthusiasm  of  the  young  scholar,  or  to  dash  with  any  scepti- 
cism his  longing  and  his  hope.  He  has  chosen  the  highest.  His 
beautiful  faith,  and  his  aspiration,  are  the  light  of  life.  Without 
his  fresh  enthusiasm,  and  his  gallant  devotion  to  learning,  to  art, 
to  culture,  the  world  would  be  dreary  enough. 

CHARLES  DUDLEY  WARNER. 


36  HOW  TO  SPEAK  IN  PUBLIC 

5.  We  all  ride  something.     It  is  folly  to  expect  us  always  to 
be  walking.     The  cheapest  thing  to  ride  is  a  hobby;  it  eats  no 
oats;  it  demands  no  groom;  it  breaks  no  traces;  it  requires  no 
shoeing.     Moreover,  it  is  safest;  the  boisterous  outbreak  of  the 
children's  fun  does  not  startle  it;  three  babies  astride  it  at  once 
do  not  make  it  skittish.     If,  perchance,  on  some  brisk  morning 
it  throws  its  rider,  it  will  stand  still  till  he  climbs  the  saddle.    For 
eight  years  we  have  had  one  tramping  the  nursery,  and  yet  no 
accidents;  though,  meanwhile,  his  eye  has  been  knocked  out  and 
his  tail  dislocated.  T.  DE  WITT  TALMAGE. 

6.  The  Lord  is  my  shepherd;  I  shall  not  want.     He  maketh 
me  to  lie  down  in  green  pastures;  he  leadeth  me  beside  the  still 
waters.     He  restoreth  my  soul:    he  leadeth  me  in  the  paths  of 
righteousness  for  his  name's  sake.     Yea,  though  I  walk  through 
the  valley  of  the  shadow  of  death,  I  will  fear  no  evil:  for  thou 
art  with  me;   thy  rod  and  thy  staff  they  comfort  me.     Thou 
preparest  a  table  before  me  in  the  presence  of  mine  enemies; 
thou  anointest  my  head  with  oil;  my  cup  runneth  over.     Surely 
goodness  and  mercy  shall  follow  me  all  the  days  of  my  life;  and 
I  will  dwell  in  the  house  of  the  Lord  forever. 

"Twenty-third  Psalm."  TBE  BIBLE. 

7.    I  chatter  over  stony  ways, 

In  little  sharps  and  trebles, 
I  bubble  into  eddying  bays, 
I  babble  on  the  pebbles. 

With  many  a  curve  my  banks  I  fret, 

By  many  a  field  and  fallow, 
And  many  a  fairy  foreland  set 

With  willow-weed  and  mallow. 

I  chatter,  chatter,  as  I  flow 

To  join  the  brimming  river, 
For  men  may  come  and  men  may  go, 

But  I  go  on  forever. 
"The  Brook."  TENNYSON. 


MODULATION  37 

8.  Speak  the  speech  I  pray  you,  as  I  pronounced  it  to  you, — 
trippingly  on  the  tongue;  but  if  you  mouth  it,  as  many  of  our 
players  do,  I  had  as  lief  the  town-crier  spake  my  lines.    Nor  do 
not  saw  the  air  too  much  with  your  hand  thus,  but  use  all  gently ; 
for  in  the  very  torrent,  tempest,  and,  as  I  may  say,  whirlwind 
of  your  passion,  you  must  acquire  and  beget  a  temperance,  that 
may  give  it  smoothness.     Oh!  it  offends  me  to  the  soul  to  hear 
a  robustious  periwig-pated  fellow  tear  a  passion  to  tatters, — to 
very  rags, — to  split  the  ears  of  the  groundlings;  who,  for  the 
most  part,  are  capable  of  nothing  but  inexplicable  dumb  show 
and  noise.     I  would  have  such  a  fellow  whipped  for  o'erdoing 
Termagant:  it  out-herods  Herod.    Pray  you,  avoid  it. 

Be  not  too  tame,  neither,  but  let  your  own  discretion  be  your 
tutor.  Suit  the  action  to  the  word;  the  word  to  the  action;  with 
this  special  observance — that  you  o'erstep  not  the  modesty  of 
nature :  for  anything  so  overdone  is  from  the  purpose  of  playing, 
whose  end,  both  at  the  first  and  now,  was,  and  is,  to  hold,  as 
'twere,  the  mirror  up  to  nature ; — to  show  virtue  her  own  feature ; 
scorn  her  own  image;  and  the  very  age  and  body  of  the  time,  his 
form  and  pressure.  Now  this,  overdone  or  come  tardy  off,  tho 
it  make  the  unskilful  laugh,  can  not  but  make  the  judicious 
grieve;  the  censure  of  which  one  must,  in  your  allowance,  o'er- 
weigh  a  whole  theatre  of  others.  Oh!  there  be  players,  that  I 
have  seen  play,  and  heard  others  praise,  and  that  highly,  not  to 
speak  it  profanely,  that,  neither  having  the  accent  of  Christians, 
nor  the  gait  of  Christian,  pagan,  or  man,  have  so  strutted  and 
bellowed,  that  I  have  thought  some  of  nature's  journeymen  had 
made  men,  and  not  made  them  well, — they  imitated  humanity  so 
abominably ! 

"Hamlet."  SHAKESPEARE. 

9.  At  church,  with  meek  and  unaffected  grace, 
His  looks  adorned  the  venerable  place; 

Truth  from  his  lips  prevailed  with  double  sway, 

And  fools  who  came  to  scoff,  remained  to  pray. 

The  service  past,  around  the  pious  man, 

With  ready  zeal,  each  honest  rustic  ran; 

E'en  children  followed,  with  endearing  wile, 

And  plucked  his  gown  to  share  the  good  man's  smile. 


38  HOW  TO  SPEAK  IN  PUBLIC 

His  ready  smile  a  parent's  warmth  expressed; 
Their  welfare  pleased  him,  and  their  cares  distressed; 
To  them  his  heart,  his  love,  his  griefs  were  given, 
But  all  his  serious  thoughts  had  rest  in  heaven: 
As  some  tall  cliff,  that  lifts  its  awful  form, 
Swells  from  the  vale,  and  midway  leaves  the  storm; 
Tho  round  its  breast  the  rolling  clouds  are  spread, 
Eternal  sunshine  settles  on  its  head.    • 

"The  Village  Preacher."  OLIVER  GOLDSMITH. 


10.  Insects  generally  must  lead  a  jovial  life.  Think  what  it 
must  be  to  lodge  in  a  lily.  Imagine  a  palace  of  ivory  and  pearl, 
with  pillars  of  silver  and  capitals  of  gold,  and  exhaling  such  a 
perfume  as  never  arose  from  human  censer.  Fancy  again  the 
fun  of  tucking  one's  self  up  for  the  night  in  the  folds  of  a  rose, 
rocked  to  sleep  by  the  gentle  sighs  of  summer  air,  nothing  to  do 
when  you  awake  but  to  wash  yourself  in  a  dewdrop,  and  fall  to 
eating  your  bedclothes. 


11.   We  live  in  deeds,  not  years;  in  thoughts,  not  breaths; 
In  feelings,  not  in  figures  on  a  dial. 
We  should  count  time  by  heart-throbs.     He  most  lives 
Who  thinks  most,  feels  the  noblest,  acts  the  best. 
Life  is  but  a  means  unto  an  end ;  that  end, — 
Beginning,  mean,  and  end  to  all  things, — God. 
"Festus."  BAILEY. 


12.  I  consider  a  human  soul  without  education  like  marble 
in  the  quarry,  which  shows  none  of  its  inherent  beauties  until 
the  skill  of  the  polisher  fetches  out  the  colors,  makes  the  surface 
shine,  and  discovers  every  ornamental  cloud,  spot,  and  vein  that 
runs  through  the  body  of  it.  Education,  after  the  same  manner, 
when  it  works  upon  a  noble  mind,  draws  out  to  view  every  latent 
virtue  and  perfection,  which,  without  such  helps,  are  never  able 
to  make  their  appearance. 


MODULATION  39 

13.   Near  the  city  of  Sevilla,  years  and  years  ago, 

Dwelt  a  lady  in  a  villa,  years  and  years  ago; 

And  her  hair  was  black  as  night, 

And  her  eyes  were  starry  bright; 

Olives  on  her  brow  were  blooming; 

Roses  red  her  lips  perfuming; 

And  her  step  was  light  and  airy 

As  the  tripping  of  a  fairy. 
Ah !  that  lady  of  the  villa, — and  I  loved  her  so, 
Near  the  city  of  Sevilla,  years  and  years  ago. 
"The  Spanish  Duel."  WALLER. 

14.    Sail  forth  into  the  sea,  0  ship! 

Through  wind  and  wave,  right  onward  steer! 
The  moistened  eye,  the  trembling  lip, 

Are  not  the  signs  of  doubt  or  fear. 
Thou,  too,  sail  on,  0  Ship  of  State! 
Sail  on,  0  Union,  strong  and  great! 

Humanity,  with  all  its  fears, 

With  all  the  hopes  of  future  years, 
Is  hanging  breathless  on  thy  fate! 
"Building  of  the  Ship."  LONGFELLOW. 

15.  Now  clear,  pure,  hard,  bright,  and  one  by  one,  like  to  hailstones, 
Short  words  fall  from  his  lips  fast  as  the  first  of  a  shower, — 
Now  in  twofold  column,  Spondee,  Iamb,  and  Trochee, 
Unbroke,  firm-set,  advance,  retreat,  trampling  along, — 
Now  with  a  sprightlier  springiness,  bounding  in  triplicate  syl- 
lables, 

Dance  the  elastic  Dactylics  in  musical  cadences  on ; 
Now,  their  voluminous  coil  intertangling  like  huge  anacondas, 
Roll  overwhelmingly  onward  the  sesquipedalian  words. 

STACY. 

16.  The  sun  does  not  shine  for  a  few  trees  and  flowers,  but 
for  the  wide  world's  joy.  The  lonely  pine  upon  the  mountain  top 
waves  its  somber  boughs,  and  cries,  "Thou  art  my  sun."  And  the 


40  HOW  TO  SPEAK  IN  PUBLIC 

little  meadow  violet  lifts  its  cup  of  blue,  and  whispers  with  its 
perfumed  breath,  "Thou  art  my  sun."  And  the  grain  in  a  thousand 
fields  rustles  in  the  wind,  and  makes  answer,  "Thou  art  my  sun." 
And  so  God  sits  effulgent  in  Heaven,  .not  for  a  favored  few,  but 
for  the  universe  of  life;  and  there  is  no  creature  so  poor  or  so 
low  that  he  may  not  look  up  with  childlike  confidence  and  say, 
"My  Father.  Thou  art  mine." 

BEECHEB. 


17.  External  heat  and  cold  had  little  influence  on  Scrooge. 
No  warmth  could  warm,  nor  wintry  weather  chill  him.  No  wind 
that  blew  was  bitterer  than  he,  no  falling  snow  was  more  intent 
upon  its  purpose,  no  pelting  rain  less  open  to  entreaty.  Foul 
weather  didn't  know  where  to  have  him.  The  heaviest  rain,  and 
snow,  and  hail,  and  sleet,  could  boast  of  the  advantage  over  him 
in  only  one  respect.  They  often  "came  down"  handsomely,  and 
Scrooge  never  did. 

"A  Christmas  Carol."  DICKENS. 


18.  Prudence,  indeed,  will  dictate,  that  governments  long  es- 
tablished should  not  be  changed  for  light  and  transient  causes; 
and  accordingly  all  experience  hath  shown  that  mankind  are  more 
disposed  to  suffer  while  evils  are  sufferable,  than  to  right  them- 
selves by  abolishing  the  forms  to  which  they  are  accustomed.  But 
when  a  long  train  of  abuses  and  usurpations,  pursuing  invariably 
the  same  object,  evinces  a  design  to  reduce  them  under  absolute 
despotism,  it  is  their  right,  it  is  their  duty,  to  throw  off  such 
government,  and  to  provide  new  guards  for  their  future  security. 

"Declaration  of  Independence." 


19.   All  in  the  wild  March-morning,  I  heard  the  angels  call ; 

It  was  when  the  moon  was  setting,  and  the  dark  was  over  all ; 
The  trees  began  to  whisper,  and  the  wind  began  to  roll ; 
And  in  the  wild  March-morning  I  heard  them  call  my  soul. 
"The  May  Queen."  TENNYSON. 


MODULATION  41 

20.    Breathes  there  a  man,  with  soul  so  dead, 
Who  never  to  himself  hath  said, 
This  is  my  own,  my  native  land? 
Whose  heart  hath  ne'er  within  him  burn'd, 
As  home  his  footsteps  he  hath  turn'd 
From  wandering  on  a  foreign  strand? 
If  such  there  breathe,  go,  mark  him  well; 
For  him  no  Minstrel  raptures  swell; 
High  tho  his  titles,  proud  his  name, 
Boundless  his  wealth  as  wish  can  claim; 
Despite  those  titles,  power,  and  pelf, 
The  wretch,  concentered  all  in  self, 
Living,  shall  forfeit  fair  renown; 
And,  doubly  dying,  shall  go  down 
To  the  vile  dust,  from  whence  he  sprung, 
Unwept,  unhonor'd,  and  unsung. 
"Lay  of  the  Last  Minstrel."  SCOTT. 

21.   It  was  an  eve  of  autumn's  holiest  mood. 

The  corn-fields,  bathed  in  Cynthia's  silver  light, 
Stood  ready  for  the  reaper's  gathering  hand; 
And  all  the  winds  slept  soundly.    Nature  seemed 
In  silent  contemplation  to  adore 
Its  maker.    Now  and  then  the  aged  leaf 
Fell  from  its  fellows,  rustling  to  the  ground; 
And,  as  it  fell,  bade  man  think  on  his  end. 

Vesper  looked  forth 

From  out  her  western  hermitage,  and  smiled; 
And  up  the  east,  unclouded,  rose  the  moon 
With  all  her  stars,  gazing  on  earth  intense, 
As  if  she  saw  some  wonder  working  there. 

ROBERT  POLLOK. 

22.    She  sleeps :  her  breathings  are  not  heard 

In  palace  chambers  far  apart. 
The  fragrant  tresses  are  not  stirred 
That  lie  upon  her  charmed  heart. 


42  HOW  TO  SPEAK  IN  PUBLIC 

She  sleeps:  on  either  hand  upswells 

The  golden-fringed  pillow  lightly  pressed. 

She  sleeps,  nor  dreams,  but  ever  dwells 

A  perfect  form  in  perfect  rest. 
"The  Day  Dream."  TENNYSON. 

OROTUND 

1.  True  eloquence,  indeed,  does  not  consist  in  speech.  It  can 
not  be  brought  from  far.  Labor  and  learning  may  toil  for  it, 
but  they  will  toil  in  vain.  Words  and  phrases  may  be  marshaled 
in  every  way,  but  they  cannot  compass  it.  It  must  exist  in  the 
man,  in  the  subject,  and  in  the  occasion.  Affected  passion,  intense 
expression,  the  pomp  of  declamation,  all  may  aspire  after  it, — 
they  can  not  reach  if.  It  comes,  if  it  comes  at  all,  like  the  out- 
breaking of  a  fountain  from  the  earth,  or  the  bursting  forth  of 
volcanic  fires,  with  spontaneous,  original,  native  force.  The  graces 
taught  in  the  schools,  the  costly  ornaments  and  studied  con- 
trivances of  speech,  shock  and  disgust  men,  when  their  own  lives, 
and  the  fate  of  their  wives,  their  children,  and  their  country  hang 
on  the  decision  of  the  hour.  Then  words  have  lost  their  power, 
rhetoric  is  vain,  and  all  elaborate  oratory  contemptible.  Even 
genius  itself  then  feels  rebuked  and  subdued,  as  in  the  presence 
of  higher  qualities.  Then  patriotism  is  eloquent;  then  self-devo- 
tion is  eloquent.  The  clear  conception,  outrunning  the  deductions 
of  logic,  the  high  purpose,  the  firm  resolve,  the  dauntless  spirit, 
speaking  on  the  tongue,  beaming  from  the  eye,  informing  every 
feature,  and  urging  the  whole  man  onward,  right  onward  to  his 
object, — this,  this  is  eloquence;  or,  rather,  it  is  something  greater 
and  higher  than  all  eloquence :  it  is  action, — noble,  sublime,  God- 
like action. 

"The  Eloquence  of  Adams"  DANIEL  WEBSTER. 


0  thou  Eternal  One!  whose  presence  bright 
All  space  doth  occupy,  all  motion  guide : 

Unchanged  through  time's  all-devastating  flight ! 
Thou  only  God — there  is  no  God  beside ! 


MODULATION  43 

Being  above  all  beings !    Mighty  One, 

Whom  none  can  comprehend,  and  none  explore, 

Who  filPst  existence  with  Thyself  alone- 
Embracing  all,  supporting,  ruling  o'er, — 
Being  whom  we  call  God,  and  know  no  more ! 
"God."  G.  R.  DERZHAVEN. 


3.  Suddenly  the  notes  of  the  deep  laboring  organ  burst  upon 
the  ear,  falling  with  doubled  and  redoubled  intensity,  and  rolling, 
as  it  were,  huge  billows  of  sound.  How  well  do  their  volume 
and  grandeur  accord  with  this  mighty  building !  With  what  pomp 
do  they  swell  through  its  vast  vaults  and  breathe  their  awful 
harmony  through  those  caves  of  death  and  make  the  silent  sep- 
ulcher  vocal!  And  now  they  rise  in  triumphant  acclamation, 
heaving  higher  and  higher  their  accordant  notes,  and  piling  sound 
on  sound.  And  now  they  pause,  and  the  soft  voices  of  the  choir 
break  out  into  sweet  gushes  of  melody ;  they  soar  aloft  and  warble 
along  the  roof,  and  seem  to  play  about  those  lofty  vaults  like 
the  pure  airs  of  heaven.  Again  the  pealing  organ  heaves  its 
thrilling  thunders,  compressing  air  into  music,  and  rolling  it  forth 
upon  the  soul.  What  long-drawn  cadences !  What  solemn  sweep- 
ing concords!  It  grows  more  and  more  dense  and  powerful, — it 
fills  the  vast  pile,  and  seems  to  jar  the  very  walls,  the  ear  is 
stunned,  the  senses  are  overwhelmed.  And  now  it  is  winding  up 
in  full  jubilee,  it  is  rising  from  earth  to  heaven;  the  very  soul 
seems  wrapt  away  and  floating  upward  on  this  swelling  tide  of 
harmony.  WASHINGTON  IRVING. 

"Westminster  Abbey"  in  "The  Sketch  Book!9 


0  now,  forever, 

4.    Farewell  the  tranquil  mind!  farewell  content! 
Farewell  the  plumed  troops,  and  the  big  wars, 
That  make  ambition  virtue !    0,  farewell ! 
Farewell  the  neighing  steed,  and  the  shrill  trump, 
The  spirit-stirring  drum,  and  ear-piercing  fife, 
The  royal  banner;  and  all  quality, 


44  HOW  TO  SPEAK  IN  PUBLIC 

Pride,  pomp,  and  circumstances  of  glorious  war! 
And,  0  you  mortal  engines,  whose  rude  throats 
The  immortal  Jove's  dread  clamors  counterfeit, 
Farewell !    Othello's  occupation's  gone ! 
"Othello."  SHAKESPEARE. 


5.  Mr.  President,  I  shall  enter  on  no  encomium  upon  Mas- 
sachusetts; she  needs  none.  There  she  is.  Behold  her,  and  judge 
for  yourselves.  There  is  her  history ;  the  world  knows  it  by  heart. 
The  past,  at  least,  is  secure.  There  is  Boston,  and  Concord,  and 
Lexington,  and  Bunker  Hill;  and  there  they  will  remain  forever. 
The  bones  of  her  sons,  falling  in  the  great  struggle  for  Independ- 
ence, now  lie  mingled  with  the  soil  of  every  State  from  New 
England  to  Georgia;  and  there  they  will  lie  forever.  And,  Sir, 
where  American  Liberty  raised  its  first  voice,  and  where  its  youth 
was  nurtured  and  sustained,  there  it  still  lives,  in  the  strength 
of  its  manhood  and  full  of  its  original  spirit.  If  discord  and 
disunion  shall  wound  it,  if  party  strife  and  blind  ambition  shall 
hawk  at  and  tear  it,  if  folly  and  madness,  if  uneasiness  under 
salutary  and  necessary  restraint,  shall  succeed  in  separating  it 
from  that  Union  by  which  alone  its  existence  is  made  sure,  it  will 
stand  in  the  end,  by  the  side  of  that  cradle  in  which  its  infancy 
was  rocked;  it  will  stretch  forth  its  arm  with  whatever  of  vigor 
it  may  still  retain  over  the  friends  who  gather  round  it;  and  it 
will  fall  at  last,  if  fall  it  must,  amidst  the  proudest  monuments 
of  its  own  glory,  and  on  the  very  spot  of  its  origin. 

"Massachusetts  and  South  Carolina"  WEBSTER. 


6.  It  took  Rome  three  hundred  years  to  die;  and  our  death,  if 
we  perish,  will  be  as  much  more  terrific  as  our  intelligence  and 
free  institutions  have  given  to  us  more  bone  and  sinew  and  vitality. 
May  God  hide  me  from  the  day  when  the  dying  agonies  of  my 
country  shall  begin !  0  thou  beloved  land,  bound  together  by  the 
ties  of  brotherhood,  and  common  interest,  and  perils,  live  for- 
ever— one  and  undivided! 

LYMAN  BEECHER. 


MODULATION  45 

7.  Thy  right  hand,  0  Lord,  is  become  glorious  in  power;  thy 
right  hand,  0  Lord,  hath  dashed  in  pieces  the  enemy,  and  in  the 
greatness  of  thine  excellency  thou  hast  overthrown  them  that  rose 
up  against  thee;  thou  sendest  forth  thy  wrath  which  consumed 
them  as  stubble.    And  with  the  blast  of  thy  nostrils  the  waters 
were  gathered  together;  the  floods  stood  upright  as  an  heap,  and 
the  depths  were  congealed  in  the  heart  of  the  sea. 

"Exodus  15;  6,  7,  8."  THE  BIBLE. 

8.  The  nation  rises  up  at  every  stage  of  his  coming;  cities  and 
states  are  his  pallbearers,  and  the  cannon  beats  the  hours  in 
solemn  progression;  dead,  dead,  dead,  he  yet  speaketh.    Is  Wash- 
ington dead?    Is  Hampden  dead?    Is  David  dead?    Is  any  man 
that  was  ever  fit  to  live  dead?    Disenthralled  from  flesh,  and  risen 
in  the  unobstructed  sphere  where  passion  never  comes,  he  begins 
his  illimitable  work 

Your  sorrows,  0  people,  are  his  peace;  your  bells  and  bands 
and  muffled  drums  sound  triumph  in  his  ear.  Wail  and  weep 
here !  Pass  on !  Ye  winds  that  move  over  the  mighty  places  of 
the  West,  chant  his  requiem !  Ye  people,  behold  a  martyr  whose 
blood,  as  so  many  articulate  words,  pleads  for  fidelity,  for  law, 
for  liberty ! 

"On  the  Death  of  Abraham  Lincoln."  BEECHEB. 

9.  Roll  on,  thou  deep  and  dark  blue  Ocean — roll ! 

Ten  thousand  fleets  sweep  over  thee  in  vain; 
Man  marks  the  earth  with  ruin — his  control 

Stops  with  the  shore; — upon  the  watery  plain 

The  wrecks  are  all  thy  deed,  nor  doth  remain 
A  shadow  of  man's  ravage,  save  his  own, 

When,  for  a  moment,  like  a  drop  of  rain, 
He  sinks  into  thy  depths  with  bubbling  groan, 
Without  a  grave,  unknelled,  uncoffined,  and  unknown. 

The  armaments  which  thunderstrike  the  walls 
Of  rock-built  cities,  bidding  nations  quake, 

And  monarchs  tremble  in  their  capitals; 
The  oak  leviathans,  whose  huge  ribs  make 
Their  clay  creator  the  vain  title  take 


46  HOW  TO  SPEAK  IN  PUBLIC 

Of  lord  of  thee,  and  arbiter  of  war, — 

These  are  thy  toys,  and,  as  the  snowy  flake, 
They  melt  into  thy  yeast  of  waves,  which  mar 
Alike  the  Armada's  pride,  or  spoils  of  Trafalgar. 

Thy  shores  are  empires,  changed  in  all  save  thee — 
Assyria,  Greece,  Rome,  Carthage, — what  are  they? 

Thy  waters  wasted  them  when  they  were  free, 
And  many  a  tyrant  since;  their  shores  obey 
The  stranger,  slave,  or  savage;  their  decay 

Has  dried  up  realms  to  deserts:  not  so  thou, 
Unchangeable,  save  to  thy  wild  waves'  play — 

Time  writes  no  wrinkle  on  thine  azure  brow — 

Such  as  creation's  dawn  beheld,  thou  rollest  now. 

Thou  glorious  mirror,  where  the  Almighty's  form 

Glasses  itself  in  tempests;  in  all  time, 
Calm  or  convulsed — in  breeze,  or  gale,  or  storm, 

Icing  the  pole;  or  in  the  torrid  clime 

Dark  heaving; — boundless,  endless,  and  sublime — 
The  image  of  Eternity — the  throne 

Of  the  Invisible;  even  from  out  thy  slime 
The  monsters  of  the  deep  are  made;  each  zone 
Obeys  thee;  thou  goest  forth,  dread,  fathomless,  alone. 
"Childe  Harold."  BYRON. 

10.  Romans,  countrymen  and  lovers!  hear  me  for  my  cause; 
and  be  silent,  that  you  may  hear :  believe  me  for  mine  honor ;  and 
have  respect  to  mine  honor,  that  you  may  believe:  censure  me  in 
your  wisdom;  and  awake  your  senses,  that  you  may  the  better 
judge.  If  there  be  any  in  this  assembly,  any  dear  friend  of 
Caesar's,  to  him  I  say  that  Brutus'  love  to  Caesar  was  no  less 
than  his.  If,  then,  that  friend  demand  why  Brutus  rose  against 
Caesar,  this  is  my  answer, — Not  that  I  loved  Ca3sar  less,  but  that 
I  loved  Rome  more.  Had  you  rather  Caesar  were  living,  and  die 
all  slaves,  than  that  Caesar  were  dead,  to  live  all 'freemen?  As 
Caesar  loved  me,  I  weep  for  him;  as  he  was  fortunate,  I  rejoice 
at  it;  as  he  was  valiant,  I  honor  him:  but,  as  he  was  ambitious, 


MODULATION  47 

I  slew  him.  There  are  tears  for  his  love;  joy  for  his  fortune; 
honor  for  his  valor;  and  death  for  his  ambition.  Who  is  here 
so  base  that  would  be  a  bondman?  If  any,  speak;  for  him  have 
I  offended.  Who  is  here  so  rude  that  would  not  be  a  Roman? 
If  any,  speak ;  for  him  have  I  offended.  Who  is  here  so  vile  that 
will  not  love  his  country  ?  If  any,  speak ;  for  him  have  I  offended. 
I  pause  for  a  reply. 
"Julius  Ccesar."  SHAKESPEARE. 

11.   Father  of  Earth  and  Heaven  !    I  call  thy  name ! 

Round  me  the  smoke  and  shout  of  battle  roll; 
My  eyes  are  dazzled  with  the  rustling  flame; 

Father,  sustain  an  untried  soldier's  soul ! 

Or  life,  or  death,  whatever  be  the  goal 
That  crowns  or  closes  round  the  struggling  hour, 

Thou  knowest,  if  ever  from  my  spirit  stole 
One  deeper  prayer,  'twas  that  no  cloud  might  lower 
On  my  young  fame ! — 0  hear !   God  of  eternal  power. 

Now  for  the  fight — now  for  the  cannon  peal — 

Forward — through  blood  and  toil  and  cloud  and  fire ! 
Glorious  the  shout,  the  shock,  the  crash  of  steel, 

The  volley's  roll,  the  rocket's  blasting  spire; 

They  shake, — like  broken  waves  their  squares  retire, — 
On  them,  hussars! — Now  give  them  rein  and  heel; 

Think  of  the  orphaned  child,  the  murdered  sire: — 
Earth  cries  for  blood, — in  thunder  on  them  wheel! 
This  hour  to  Europe's  fate  shall  set  the  triumph-seal! 
"Battle  Hymn."  KARL  THEODOR  KORNER. 

ASPIRATED 

1.   Lady  Macbeth.     Alack,  I  am  afraid  they  have  awaked, 
And  'tis  not  done.    The  attempt  and  not  the  deed 
Confounds  us.    Hark!    I  laid  their  daggers  ready; 
He  could  not  miss  them.    Had  he  not  resembled 
My  father  as  he  slept,  I  had  done't. 


48  HOW  TO  SPEAK  IN  PUBLIC 

(Enter  Macbeth) 

My  husband ! 

Macbeth.     I  have  done  the  deed.    Didst  thou  not  hear  a  noise? 

Lady  Macbeth.     I  heard  the  owl  scream  and  the  crickets  cry. 
Did  not  you  speak  ? 

Macbeth.  When! 

Lady  Macbeth.  Now. 

Macbeth.  As  I  descended? 

Lady  Macbeth.    Ay. 

Macbeth.     Hark ! 
Who  lies  i'  the  second  chamber? 

Lady  Macbeth.  Donalbain. 

Macbeth.     This  is  a  sorry  sight.     (Looking  on  his  hands.) 

Lady  Macbeth.    A  foolish  thought,  to  say  a  sorry  sight. 

Macbeth.     There's   one   did   laugh   in's   sleep,    and   one   cried 
"Murder!" 

That  they  did  wake  each  other :  I  stood  and  heard  them : 
But  they  did  say  their  prayers,  and  address'd  them 
Again  to  sleep. 

"Macbeth."  SHAKESPEARE. 


2.    Steady,  boys,  steady ! 
Keep  your  arms  ready. 

God  only  knows  whom  we  may  meet  here. 
Don't  let  me  be  taken — 
I'd  rather  awaken 

To-morrow  in — no  matter  where, — 
Than  lie  in  that  foul  prison  hole  over  there. 
"The  Wounded  Soldier."  ANON. 


3.   Hark !  they  whisper :  angels  say, 
"Sister  spirit,  come  away!" 
What  is  this  absorbs  me  quite, — 
Steals  my  senses,  shuts  my  sight, 
Drowns  my  spirit,  draws  my  breath? — 
Tell  me,  my  soul!  can  this  be  death? 
"The  Dying  Christian  to  his  Soul."  POPE. 


MODULATION  49 

4.    Brutus.     How  ill  this  taper  burns! — Ha!  who  comes  here? 

I  think,  it  is  the  weakness  of  mine  eyes 

That  shapes  this  monstrous  apparition. 

(Ghost  approaches.) 

It  comes  upon  me : — Art  thou  anything  ? 

Art  thou  some  god,  some  angel,  or  some  devil, 

That  mak'st  my  blood  cold,  and  my  hair  to  stare? 

Speak  to  me,  what  thou  art. 
"Julius  Caesar."  SHAKESPEARE. 

PECTORAL 

1.    Oh,  I  have  passed  a  miserable  night, 
So  full  of  ugly  sights,  of  ghastly  dreams, 
That,  as  I  am  a  Christian  faithful  man, 
I  would  not  spend  another  such  a  night, 
Tho  't  were  to  buy  a  world  of  happy  days, 
So  full  of  dismal  terror  was  the  time. 
"Richard  HI."  SHAKESPEARE. 

2.   Angels  and  ministers  of  grace  defend  us ! 
Be  thou  spirit  of  health  or  goblin  damn'd. 
Bring  with  thee  airs  from  heaven  or  blasts  from  hell, 
Be  thy  intents  wicked  or  charitable, 
Thou  comest  in  such  a  questionable  shape 
That  I  will  speak  to  thee !    I'll  call  thee  Hamlet, 
King,  father;  royal  Dane,  Oh,  answer  me! 
"Hamlet."  SHAKESPEARE. 

3.    And  the  raven,  never  flitting,  still  is  sitting,  still  is  sitting 
On  the  pallid  bust  of  Pallas,  just  above  my  chamber  door; 
And  his  eyes  have  all  the  seeming  of  a  demon's  that  is  dream- 
ing, 
And  the  lamp-light  o'er  him  streaming  throws  his  shadow  on 

the  floor; 
And  my  soul  from  out  that  shadow  that  lies  floating  on  the  floor 

Shall  be  lifted — nevermore. 
"The  Raven."  POE. 


50  HOW  TO  SPEAK  IN  PUBLIC 

4.    Ghost.     I  am  thy  father's  spirit, 

Doomed  for  a  certain  term  to  walk  the  night, 
And  for  the  day  confined  to  fast  in  fires, 
Till  the  foul  crimes  done  in  my  days  of  nature 
Are  burned  and  purged  away.    But  that  I  am  forbid 
To  tell  the  secrets  of  my  prison  house, 
I  could  a  tale  unfold  whose  lightest  word 
Would  harrow  up  thy  soul. 

"Hamlet."  SHAKESPEARE. 


GUTTURAL 

1.  But  you,  wretch!  you  could  creep  through  the  world  unaf- 
fected by  its  various  disgraces,  its  ineffable  miseries,  its  constantly 
accumulating  masses  of  crime  and  sorrow; — you  could  live  and 
enjoy  yourself  while  the  noble-minded  were  betrayed, — while 
nameless  and  birthless  villains  trod  on  the  neck  of  the  brave  and 
long-descended: — you  could  enjoy  yourself,  like  a  butcher's  dog 
in  the  shambles,  battening  on  garbage,  while  the  slaughter  of  the 
brave  went  on  around  you!  This  enjoyment  you  shall  not  live 
to  partake  of:  you  shall  die,  base  dog! — and  that  before  yon 
cloud  has  passed  over  the  sun !  SCOTT. 


2.    But  now  my  sword's  my  own !    Smile  on,  my  lords ! 
I  scorn  to  count  what  feelings,  withered  hopes,, 
Strong  provocations,  bitter,  burning  wrongs, 
I  have  within  my  heart's  hot  cells  shut  up, 
To  leave  you  in  your  lazy  dignities. 
But  here  I  stand  and  scoff  you !  here  I  fling 
Hatred  and  full  defiance  in  your  face ! 
Your  Consul's  merciful ; — for  this  all  thanks. 
He  dares  not  touch  a  hair  of  Catiline! 

"Catiline's  Defiance"  GEORGE  CROLY. 


MODULATION  51 

3.    Gloster.     Stay  you  that  bear  the  corse  and  set  it  down. 
Anne.    What  black  magician  conjures  up  this  fiend, 
To  stop  devoted  charitable  deeds  1 

Gloster.    Villains,  set  down  the  corse;  or  by  Saint  Paul, 
I'll  make  a  corse  of  him  that  disobeys ! 
Gentleman.     My  lord,  stand  back  and  let  the  coffin  pass. 
Gloster.    Unmannered  dog!  stand  thou  when  I  command: 
Advance  thy  halberd  higher  than  my  breast, 
Or,  by  Saint  Paul,  I'll  strike  thee  to  my  foot, 
And  spurn  thee  beggar,  for  thy  boldness. 
"Richard  III."  SHAKESPEARE. 


4.   I'll  have  my  bond ;  I  will  not  hear  thee  speak : 
I'll  have  my  bond ;  and  therefore  speak  no  more. 
I'll  not  be  made  a  soft  and  dull-eyed  fool, 
To  shake  the  head,  relent,  and  sigh;  and  yield 
To  Christian  intercessors.    Follow  not; 
I'll  have  no  more  speaking.    I  will  have  my  bond. 
"Merchant  of  Venice."  SHAKESPEARE. 


5.    Antony.    Villains !  you  did  not  threat,  when  your  vile  daggers 
Hacked  one  another  in  the  sides  of  CaBsar! 
You  showed  your  teeth  like  apes,  and  fawned  like  hounds, 
And  bowed  like  bondmen,  kissing  CaBsar's  feet; 
Whilst  damned  Casca,  like  a  cur,  behind, 
Struck  Caesar  on  the  neck. — Oh !  flatterers ! 
"Julius  Ccesar."  SHAKESPEARE. 


FALSETTO 

1.  There  was  silence  for  a  little  while;  then  an  old  man  re- 
plied in  a  thin,  trembling  voice,  "Nicholas  Veddert  why  he's 
been  dead  and  gone  these  eighteen  years." 

"Rip  Van  Winkle."  WASHINGTON  IRVING. 


52  HOW  TO  SPEAK  IN  PUBLIC 

2.  Yes,  it  is  worth  talking  of:  But  that's  how  you  always 
try  to  put  me  down.  You  fly  into  a  rage,  and  then,  if  I  only 
try  to  speak,  you  won't  hear  me.  That's  how  you  men  always 
will  have  the  talk  to  yourselves:  a  poor  woman  isn't  allowed  to 
get  a  word  in. 

"The  Caudle  Lectures."  DOUGLAS  JERROLD. 


3.   "No,"  said  the  wife;  "the  barn  is  high, 
And  if  you  slip,  and  fall,  and  die 
How  will  my  living  be  secured? 
Stephen,  your  life  is  not  insured." 


ORAL 

1.   "Jo,  my  poor  fellow!" 

"I  hear  you,  sir,  in  the  dark,  but  I'm  a  gropin' — a  groping  let 
me  catch  hold  of  your  hand." 
"Jo,  can  you  say  what  I  say?" 

"I'll  say  anything  as  you  say,  sir,  for  I  knows  it's  good." 
"OUR  FATHER." 
"Our  Father.— That's  very  good,  sir." 
"WHICH  ART  IN  HEAVEN." 
"Art  in  Heaven. — Is  the  light  a  comin',  sir?" 
"It  is  close  at  hand.    HALLOWED  BE  THY  NAME." 
"Hallowed  be— thy— name." 

DICKENS. 

WHISPER 

1.  Hark!  I  hear  the  bugles  of  the  enemy!  They  are  on  their 
march  along  the  bank  of  the  river.  We  must  retreat  instantly, 
or  be  cut  off  from  our  boats.  I  see  the  head  of  their  column 
already  rising  over  the  height.  Our  only  safety  is  in  the  screen 
of  this  hedge.  Keep  close  to  it;  be  silent;  and  stoop  as  you  run. 
For  the  boats!  Forward! 


MODULATION  53 

2.   All  heaven  and  earth  are  still, — tho  not  in  sleep, 
But  breathless,  as  we  grow  when  feeling  most; 

And  silent,  as  we  stand  in  thoughts  too  deep : — 
All  heaven  and  earth  are  still :  from  the  high  host 

•    Of  stars  to  the  lulled  lake,  and  mountain  coast, 

All  is  concentrated  in  a  life  intense, 

Where  not  a  beam,  nor  air,  nor  leaf  is  lost, 

But  hath  a  part  of  being,  and  a  sense 

Of  that  which  is  of  all  Creator  and  Defence. 

BYRON. 


3.  Soldiers!  You  are  now  within  a  few  steps  of  the  enemy's 
outpost.  Our  scouts  report  them  as  slumbering  in  parties  around 
their  watch-fires,  and  utterly  unprepared  for  our  approach.  A 
swift  and  noiseless  advance  around  that  projecting  rock,  and  we 
are  upon  them, — we  capture  them  without  the  possibility  of  re- 
sistance.— One  disorderly  noise  or  motion  may  leave  us  at  the 
mercy  of  their  advanced  guard.  Let  every  man  keep  the  strictest 
silence,  under  pain  of  instant  death. 


PITCH 

Pitch  has  reference  to  the  key  of  the  voice,  and  its  de- 
grees run  through  the  entire  compass.  It  is  divided  into 
Middle,  Low,  Very  Low,  High  and  Very  High. 


MIDDLE 

1.   The  very  law  which  molds  a  tear, 

And  bids  it  trickle  from  its  source, 
That  law  preserves  the  earth  a  sphere, 
And  guides  the  planets  in  their  course. 
"On  a  Tear."  SAMUEL  ROGERS. 


54  HOW  TO  SPEAK  IN  PUBLIC 

2.  For  rising  to  eminence  in  any  intellectual  pursuit,  there  is 
not  a  rule  of  more  essential  importance  than  that  of  doing  one 
thing  at  a  tune;  avoiding  distracting  and  desultory  occupations, 
and  keeping  a  leading  object  habitually  before  the  mind,  as  one 
in  which  it  can  at  all  times  find  an  interesting  resource  when  nec- 
essary avocations  allow  the  thoughts  to  recur  to  it.     If,  along 
with  this  habit,  there  be  cultivated  the  practise  of  constantly 
writing  such  views  as  arise,  we  perhaps  describe  that  state  of 
mental  discipline  by  which  talents  of  a  very  moderate  order  may 
be  applied  in  a  conspicuous  and  useful  manner  to  any  subject 
to  which  they  are  devoted.     Such  writing  need  not  be  made  at 
first  with  any  great  attention  to  method,  but  merely  put  aside 
for  future  consideration,  and  in  this  manner  the  different  depart- 
ments of  a  subject  will  develop  and  arrange  themselves  as  they 
advance,  in  a  manner  equally  pleasing  and  wonderful. 

"Qualities  of  a  Well  Regulated  Mind."  ABERCROMBIE. 

3.  To  live  content  with  small  means,  to  seek  elegance  rather 
than  luxury,  and  refinement  rather  than  fashion;  to  be  worthy, 
not  respectable;    and  wealthy,   not   rich;   to   study   hard,   think 
quietly,  talk  gently,  act  frankly;  to  listen  to  stars  and  birds, 
babes  and  sages,  with  open  heart;  to  bear  all  cheerfully,  do  all 
bravely,   await   occasions,   hurry   never;   in   a  word,   to   let  the 
spiritual,  unbidden  and  unconscious,  grow  up  through  the  com- 
mon.   This  is  to  be  my  symphony. 

"My  Symphony."  WILLIAM  HENRY  CHANNING. 

4.  Genius  is  only  the  power  of  making  continuous  efforts;  the 
line  between  failure  and  success  is  so  fine  that  we  are  often  on 
the  line  and  do  not  know  it.    How  many  a  man  has  thrown  up 
his  hands  at  a  time  when  a  little  more  effort,  a  little  more  pa- 
tience, would  have  achieved  success.    As  the  tide  goes  clear  out, 
so  it  comes  clear  in.    In  business,  sometimes,  prospects  may  seem 
darkest  when  really  they  are  on  the  turn.    A  little  more  patience, 
a  little  more  effort,  and  what  seemed  hopeless  failure  may  turn 
to  glorious  success.     There  is  no  failure  except  in  no  longer  try- 
ing.   There  is  no  defeat  except  from  within,  no  really  insurmount- 
able barrier  save  our  own  weakness  of  purpose. 


MODULATION  55 

LOW 

1.   It  thunders!    Sons  of  dust,  in  reverence  bow! 

Ancient  of  days!  thou  speakest  from  above: 
Thy  right  hand  wields  the  bolt  of  terror  now; 

That  hand  which  scatters  peace,  and  joy,  and  love. 
Almighty!  trembling  like  a  timid  child, 

I  hear  thy  awful  voice, — alarmed,  afraid, 
I  see  the  flashes  of  thy  lightning  wild, 

And  in  the  very  grave  would  hide  my  head ! 

2.    To-morrow,  and  to-morrow,  and  to-morrow, 
Creeps  in  this  petty  pace  from  day  to  day, 
To  the  last  syllable  of  recorded  time; 
And  all  our  yesterdays  have  lighted  fools 
The  way  to  dusty  death.    Out,  out,  brief  candle! 
Life's  but  a  walking  shadow;  a  poor  player, 
That  struts  and  frets  his  hour  upon  the  stage, 
And  then  is  heard  no  more :  it  is  a  tale 
Told  by  an  idiot,  full  of  sound  and  fury, 
Signifying  nothing. 
"Macbeth."  SHAKESPEARE. 

3.  In  thoughts  from  the  visions  of  the  night,  when  deep  sleep 
falleth  on  men,  fear  came  upon  me,  and  trembling,  which  made 
all  my  bones  to  shake.  Then  a  spirit  passed  before  my  face, 
the  hair  of  my  flesh  stood  up;  it  stood  still,  but  I  could  not 
discern  the  form  thereof;  an  image  was  before  mine  eyes;  there 
was  silence,  and  I  heard  a  voice  saying,  Shall  mortal  man  be  more 
just  than  God!  Shall  a  man  be  more  pure  than  his  Maker? 

VERY  LOW 

1.    'Tis  midnight's  holy  hour, — and  silence  now 
Is  brooding  like  a  gentle  spirit,  o'er 
The  still  and  pulseless  world.    Hark!  on  the  winds 
The  bell's  deep  tones  are  swelling, — 'tis  the  knell 
Of  the  departed  year. 
"The  Closing  Year."  GEORGE  D.  PRENTICE. 


56  HOW  TO  SPEAK  IN  PUBLIC 

2.    Night,  sable  goddess!  from  her  ebon  throne, 
In  ray  less  majesty,  now  stretches  forth 
Her  leaden  scepter,  o'er  a  slumbering  world. 
Silence,  how  dead !  and  darkness,  how  profound ! 
Nor  eye,  nor  listening  ear,  an  object  finds; 
Creation  sleeps.    'Tis  as  the  general  pulse 
Of  life  stood  still,  and  nature  made  a  pause; 
An  awful  pause !  prophetic  of  her  end. 
"Night  Thoughts."  YOUNG. 

3.  Now  o'er  the  one  half -world 

Nature  seems  dead,  and  wicked  dreams  abuse 
The  curtain'd  sleep;   witchcraft  celebrates 
Pale  Hecate's  offerings,  and  withered  murder, 
Alamm'd  by  his  sentinel  the  wolf, 
Whose  howl's  his  watch,  thus  with  his  stealthy  pace 
With  Tarquin's  ravishing  strides,  towards  his  design 
Moves  like  a  ghost.     Thou  sure  and  firm-set  earth, 
Hear  not  my  steps,  which  way  they  walk,  for  fear 
Thy  very  stones  prate  of  my  whereabout, 
And  take  the  present  horror  from  the  time, 
Which  now  suits  with  it. 
"Macbeth."  SHAKESPEARE. 

4.   It  must  be  so — Plato,  thou  reasonest  well ! — 
Else,  whence  this  pleasing  hope,  this  fond  desire, 
This  longing  after  immortality? 
Or  whence  this  secret  dread,  and  inward  horror, 
Of  falling  into  nought!    Why  shrinks  the  soul 
Back  on  herself,  and  startles  at  destruction? 
'Tis  the  divinity  that  stirs  within  us; 
'Tis  heaven  itself  that  points  out  an  hereafter, 
And  intimates  eternity  to  man. 
Eternity!  thou  pleasing,  dreadful  thought! 
Through  what  variety  of  untried  being, 
Through  what  new  scenes  and  changes  must  we  pass ! 
The  wide,  the  unbounded  prospect  lies  before  me : 
But  shadows,  clouds,  and  darkness  rest  upon  it. 
"Cato."  ADDISON. 


MODULATION  57 

HIGH 

Cry  Holiday!  Holiday!  let  us  be  gay, 
And  share  in  the  rapture  of  heaven  and  earth; 

For,  see!  what  a  sunshiny  joy  they  display, 
To  welcome  the  Spring  on  the  day  of  her  birth ; 

While  the  elements,  gladly  outpouring  their  voice, 

Nature's  paean  proclaim,  and  in  chorus  rejoice! 


2.   "Be  that  word  our  sign  of  parting,  bird  or  fiend !"  I  shrieked, 

upstarting ; 
"Get  thee  back  into  the  tempest  and  the  Night's  Plutonian 

shore ! 
Leave  no  black  plume  as  a  token  of  that  lie  thy  soul  hath 

spoken ! 

Leave  my  loneliness  unbroken !  quit  the  bust  above  my  door ! 
Take  thy  beak  from  out  my  heart,  and  take  thy  form  from 
off  my  door." 

Quoth  the  raven :  "Nevermore !" 
"The  Raven."  POE. 


3.   Freedom  calls  you!    Quick,  be  ready, — 

Think  of  what  your  sires  have  done; 
Onward,  onward!  strong  and  steady, — 
Drive  the  tyrant  to  his  den; 
On,  and  let  the  watchword  be, 
Country,  home,  and  liberty! 
"Polish  War  Song."  JAMES  G.  PERCIVAL. 


4.   I  come,  I  come!  ye  have  called  me  long, 

I  come  o'er  the  mountain  with  light  and  song : 
Ye  may  trace  my  step  o'er  the  wakening  earth, 
By  the  winds  which  tell  of  the  violet's  birth, 
By  the  primrose-stars  in  the  shadowy  grass, 
By  the  green  leaves,  opening  as  I  pass. 
"The  Voice  of  Spring."  HEMANS. 


58  HOW  TO  SPEAK  IN  PUBLIC 

5.    Then  sing,  ye  birds,  sing,  sing  a  joyous  song! 
And  let  the  young  lambs  bound 
As  to  the  tabor's  sound! 
We  in  thought  will  join  your  throng, 
Ye  that  pipe  and  ye  that  play, 
Ye  that  through  your  hearts  to-day 
Feel  the  gladness  of  the  May! 
What  tho  the  radiance  which  was  once  so  bright 
Be  now  forever  taken  from  my  sight, 
Tho  nothing  can  bring  back  the  hour 
Of  splendor  in  the  grass,  of  glory  in  the  flower; 
We  will  grieve  not,  rather  find 
Strength  in  what  remains  behind; 
In  the  primal  sympathy 
Which  having  been  must  ever  be; 
In  the  soothing  thoughts  that  spring 
Out  of  human  suffering: 
In  the  faith  that  looks  through  death, 
In  the  years  that  bring  the  philosophic  mind. 

"Intimations  of  Immortality."  WORDSWORTH. 


6.  0  come,  let  us  sing  unto  Jehovah;  let  us  make  a  joyful 
noise  to  the  rock  of  our  salvation.  Let  us  come  before  his  pres- 
ence with  thanksgiving,  let  us  make  a  joyful  noise  unto  him  with 
psalms.  For  Jehovah  is  a  great  God,  and  a  great  King  above 
all  gods. 

In  his  hand  are  two  deep  places  of  the  earth;  the  heights  of 
the  mountains  are  his  also. 

The  sea  is  his,  and  he  made  it;  and  his  hands  formed  the  dry 
land.  0  come,  let  us  worship  and  bow  down ;  let  us  kneel  before 
Jehovah  our  Maker.  For  he  is  our  God,  and  we  are  the  people 
of  his  pasture,  and  the  sheep  of  his  hand. 

"Ninety-fifth  Psalm."  THE  BIBLE. 


MODULATION  59 

VERY  HIGH 

1.    They  strike !  hurrah !  the  fort  has  surrendered ! 
Shout!  shout!  my  warrior  boy, 
And  wave  your  cap,  and  clap  your  hands  for  joy 
Cheer  answer  cheer,  and  bear  the  cheer  about. 
Hurrah!  hurrah!  for  the  fiery  fort  is  ours. 
"Victory!   victory!  victory!" 

Is  the  shout. 

Shout  for  the  fiery  fort  is  ours,  and  the  field 
And  the  day  are  ours ! 

2.   Rejoice,  you  men  of  Algiers,  ring  your  bells: 

King  John,  your  king  and  England's,  doth  approach. 

Open  your  gates  and  give  the  victors  way. 
"King  John."  SHAKESPEARE. 

3.   Pull,  pull  in  your  lassos,  and  bridle  to  steed, 
And  speed,  if  ever  for  life  you  would  speed; 
And  ride  for  your  lives,  for  your  lives  you  must  ride, 
For  the  plain  is  aflame,  the  prairie  on  fire. 

NINE  DEGREES  OF  PITCH 

9.    Extremely  high: 

I  repeat  it  sir,  let  it  come !  let  it  come ! 
8.    Very  high: 

Three  millions  of  people  armed  in  the  holy  cause  of  liberty! 
7.    High: 

The  sounding  aisles  of  the  dim  woods  rang. 
6.    Eather  high: 

With  music  I  come  from  my  balmy  home. 
5.    Middle: 

A  vision  of  beauty  appeared  on  the  clouds. 


60  HOW  TO  SPEAK  IN  PUBLIC 

4.    Rather  low: 

Friends,  Romans,  Countrymen! 
3.    Low: 

And  this  is  in  the  night,  most  glorious  night! 
2.    Very  low: 

Roll  on,  thou  deep  and  dark  blue  ocean,  roll! 
1.    As  low  as  possible: 

Eternity, — thou  pleasing,  dreadful  thought. 

"Voice  and  Action."  J.  E.  FROBISHEB. 


CHAPTER  V 

MODULATION  (Continued) 

TIME 

Time  as  applied  to  speech  embraces  three  important  ele- 
ments: Rate,  Quantity,  and  Pausing.  The  rate  at  which 
one  speaks  may  be  Medium,  Slow,  Very  Slow,  Rapid,  or 
Very  Rapid.  Quantity  is  the  time  given  to  syllables  and 
individual  words.  Pausing  has  reference  to  time  between 
words  and  is  divided  into  two  kinds:  Grammatical  and 
Rhetorical. 

BATE 
Medium: 

1.  Read,  not  to  contradict  and  confute,  nor  to  believe  and 
take  for  granted,  nor  to  find  talk  and  discourse,  but  to  weigh 
and  consider.  Some  books  are  to  be  tasted,  others  to  be  swal- 
lowed, and  some  few  to  be  chewed  and  digested;  that  is,  some 
books  are  to  be  read  only  in  parts;  others  to  be  read,  but  not 
curiously;  and  some  few  to  be  read  wholly,  and  with  diligence 
and  attention.  Some  books  also  may  be  read  by  deputy,  and 
extracts  made  of  them  by  others;  but  that  would  be  only  in 
less  important  argument,  and  the  meaner  sort  of  books;  else 
distilled  books  are,  like  common  distilled  waters,  flashy  things. 

Reading  maketh  a  full  man,  conference  a  ready  man,  and  wri- 
ting an  exact  man;  and  therefore,  if  a  man  write  little,  he  had 
need  have  a  great  memory;  if  he  confer  little,  he  had  need  have 
a  present  wit;  and  if  he  read  little  he  had  need  have  much  cun- 
ning, to  seem  to  know  that  he  doth  not. 

"Essays— Of  Studies."  BACON. 

61 


62  HOW  TO  SPEAK  IN  PUBLIC 

2.  Not  eloquence,  but  truth,  is  to  be  sought  in  the  Holy  Scrip- 
tures, every  part  of  which  must  be  read  with  the  same  spirit  by 
which  it  was  written.  In  these,  and  all  other  books,  it  is  improve- 
ment in  holiness,  not  pleasure  in  the  subtlety  of  thought,  or  the 
accuracy  of  expression,  that  must  be  principally  regarded.  We 
ought  to  read  those  parts  that  are  simple  and  devout,  with  the 
same  affection  and  delight  as  those  of  high  speculation  or  pro- 
found erudition.  Whatever  book  thou  readest,  suffer  not  thy 
mind  to  be  influenced  by  the  character  of  the  writer,  whether 
his  literary  accomplishments  be  great  or  small.  Let  thy  only 
motive  to  read  be  the  love  of  truth;  and,  instead  of  inquiring 
who  it  is  that  writes,  give  all  thy  attention  to  the  nature  of  what 
is  written.  Man  passeth  away  like  the  shadows  of  the  morning; 
but  "the  word  of  the  Lord  endureth  forever":  and  that  word, 
without  respect  of  persons,  in  ways  infinitely  various,  speaketh 
unto  all. 

"Reading  the  Scriptures."  THOMAS  A'KEMPIS. 


3.  Marley  was  dead,  to  begin  with.  There  is  no  doubt  what- 
ever about  that.  The  register  of  his  burial  was  signed  by  the 
clergyman,  the  clerk,  the  undertaker,  and  the  chief  mourner. 
Scrooge  signed  it.  And  Scrooge's  name  was  good  upon  'Change 
for  anything  he  chose  to  put  his  hand  to.  Old  Marley  was  as 
dead  as  a  door-nail. 

"The  Christmas  Carol"  DICKENS. 


4.  We  have  demonstrations  enough,  fortunately,  to  show  that 
truth  alone  is  not  sufficient;  for  truth  is  the  arrow,  but  man  is 
the  bow  that  sends  it  home.  There  be  many  men  who  are  the 
light  of  the  pulpit,  whose  thought  is  profound,  whose  learning 
is  universal,  but  those  offices  are  unspeakably  dull.  They  do 
make  known  the  truth;  but  without  favor,  without  grace,  without 
beauty,  without  inspiration;  and  discourse  upon  discourse  would 
fitly  be  called  the  funeral  of  important  subjects. 

BEECHER. 


MODULATION  63 

Slow: 

1.  Lord,  thou  hast  been  our  dwelling-place  in  all  generations. 
Before  the  mountains  were  brought  forth,  or  ever  thou  hadst 
formed  the  earth  and  the  world,  even  from  everlasting  to  ever- 
lasting, thou  art  God. 

2.    Hear  the  tolling  of  the  bells- 
Iron  bells! 

What  a  world  of  solemn  thought  their  monody  compels ! 
In  the  silence  of  the  night 
How  we  shiver  with  affright 
At  the  melancholy  menace  of  their  tone ! 
For  every  sound  that  floats 
From  the  rust  within  their  throats 

Is  a  groan. 
"The  Bells."  POE. 

Very  Slow: 

1.    To  be  or  not  to  be :  that  is  the  question : 
Whether  'tis  nobler  in  the  mind  to  suffer 
The  slings  and  arrows  of  outrageous  fortune, 
Or  to  take  arms  against  a  sea  of  troubles, 
And  by  opposing  end  them?    To  die:  to  sleep; 
No  more ;  and  by  a  sleep  to  say  we  end 
The  heart-ache  and  the  thousand  natural  shocks 
That  flesh  is  heir  to:  'tis  a  consummation 
Devoutly  to  be  wish'd.     To  die,  to  sleep; 
To  sleep:  perchance  to  dream!  ay,  there's  the  rub; 
For  in  that  sleep  of  death  what  dreams  may  come 
When  we  have  shuffled  off  this  mortal  coil, 
Must  give  us  pause:  there's  the  respect 
That  makes  calamity  of  so  long  life; 
For  who  would  bear  the  whips  and  scorns  of  time, 
The  oppressor's  wrong,  the  proud  man's  contumely, 
The  pangs  of  despised  love,  the  law's  delay, 
The  insolence  of  office  and  the  spurns 
That  patient  merit  of  the  unworthy  takes, 


64  HOW  TO  SPEAK  IN  PUBLIC 

When  he  himself  might  his  quietus  make 
With  a  bare  bodkin?  who'd  these  fardels  bear, 
To  grunt  and  sweat  under  a  weary  life, 
But  that  the  dread  of  something  after  death, 
The  undiscovered  country  from  whose  bourn 
No  traveler  returns,  puzzles  the  will 
And  makes  us  rather  bear  those  ills  we  have 
Than  fly  to  others  that  we  know  not  of  ? 
Thus  conscience  does  make  cowards  of  us  all; 
And  thus  the  native  hue  of  resolution 
Is  sicklied  o'er  with  the  pale  cast  of  thought, 
And  enterprises  of  great  pith  and  moment 
With  this  regard  their  currents  turn  awry, 
And  lose  the  name  of  action. 
"Hamlet."  SHAKESPEARE. 

2.    Sunset  and  evening  star,  and  one  clear  call  for  me! 

And  may  there  be  no  moaning  of  the  bar  when  I  put  out  to 

sea, 
But  such  a  tide  as  moving  seems  asleep,  too  full  for  sound 

and  foam, 
When  that  which  drew  from  out  the  boundless  deep  turns 

again  home. 

Twilight  and  evening  bell,  and  after  that  the  dark! 

And  may  there  be  no  sadness  of  farewell,  when  I  embark; 

For  tho  from  out  our  bourn  of  time  and  place  the  flood 

may  bear  me  far, 

I  hope  to  see  my  Pilot  face  to  face  when  I  have  crost  the  bar. 
"Crossing  the  Bar."  TENNYSON. 

3.  The  hours  pass  slowly  by — nine,  ten,  eleven, — how  solemnly 
the  last  stroke  of  the  clock  floats  out  upon  the  still  air.  It  dies 
gently  away,  swells  out  again  in  the  distance,  and  seems  to  be 
caught  up  by  spirit-voices  of  departed  years,  until  the  air  is 
filled  with  melancholy  strains.  It  is  the  requiem  of  the  dying 
year. 


MODULATION  65 

Tenderly,  mournfully  it  lingers  upon  the  ear  and  sinks  into 
the  heart;  slowly  and  softly  it  dies  away.  The  clock  strikes 
twelve;  the  grave  opens  and  closes,  and  the  old  year  is  buried. 

BROOKS. 


Rapid: 

1.   Haste,  thee,  nymph,  and  bring  with  thce 
Jest  and  youthful  jollity, 
Quips,  and  cranks,  and  wanton  wiles, 
Nods,  and  becks,  and  wreathed  smiles, 
Such  as  hang  on  Hebe's  cheek, 
And  love  to  dwell  in  dimple  sleek; 
Come,  and  trip  it  as  ye  go, 
On  the  light  fantastic  toe. 
"L'Allegro."  MILTON. 


We  come !  we  come !  and  ye  feel  our  might, 
As  we're  hastening  on  in  our  boundless  flight; 
And  over  the  mountains,  and  over  the  deep, 
Our  broad  invisible  pinions  sweep 
Like  the  spirit  of  liberty,  wild  and  free, 
And  ye  look  on  our  works,  and  own  'tis  we; 
Ye  call  us  the  Winds;  but  can  ye  tell 
Whither  we  go,  or  where  we  dwell? 


Our  dwelling  is  in  the  Almighty's  hand; 
We  come  and  we  go  at  his  command, 
Tho  joy  or  sorrow  may  mark  our  track, 
His  will  is  our  guide,  and  we  look  not  back; 
And  if  in  our  wrath,  ye  would  turn  us  away, 
Or  win  us  in  gentle  airs  to  play, 
Then  lift  up  your  hearts  to  him  who  binds, 
Or  frees,  as  he  wills,  the  obedient  Winds! 
"The  Winds."  H.  F.  GOULD. 


66  HOW  TO  SPEAK  IN  PUBLIC 

3.   Pindarus.    Fly  further  off,  my  lord,  fly  further  off! 
Mark  Antony  is  in  your  tents,  my  lord ! 
Fly,  therefore,  noble  Cassius,  fly  far  off! 
Cassius.     Titinius,  if  thou  lovs't  me, 
Mount  thou  my  horse  and  hide  thy  spurs  in  him, 
Till  he  have  brought  thee  up  to  yonder  troops 
And  here  again,  that  I  may  rest  assur'd 
Whether  yon  troops  are  friend  or  enemy. 
"Julius  Caesar."  SHAKESPEARE. 


4.    Back  darted  Spurius  Lartius; 

Herminius  darted  back: 
And,  as  they  passed,  beneath  their  feet 

They  felt  the  timbers  crack. 
But  when  they  turned  their  faces, 

And  on  the  farther  shore 
Saw  brave  Horatius  stand  alone, 

They  would  have  crossed  once  more. 
"Horatius."  MACAULAY. 


Very  Rapid: 

1.    I  sprang  to  the  stirrup,  and  Joris,  and  he; 

I  galloped,  Dirck  galloped,  we  galloped  all  three; 
"Good  speed!"  cried  the  watch,  as  the  gate-bolts  undrew; 
"Speed!"  echoed  the  wall  to  us  galloping  through; 
Behind  shut  the  postern,  the  lights  sank  to  rest, 
And  into  the  midnight  we  galloped  abreast. 
"How  They  Brought  the  Good  News  from  Ghent." 

BROWNING. 


2.   A  hurry  of  hoofs  in  a  village  street, 
A  shape  in  the  moonlight,  a  bulk  in  the  dark, 
And  beneath,  from  the  pebbles,  in  passing,  a  spark, 

Struck  out  by  a  steed  flying  fearless  and  fleet. 
"Paul  Revere's  Ride."  LONGFELLOW. 


MODULATION  67 

3.  Now  you  see  the  water  foaming  all  around.  See  how  fast 
you  pass  that  point!  Up  with  the  helm!  Now  turn!  Pull 
hard!  quick!  quick!  quick!  pull  for  your  lives!  Pull  till  the 
blood  starts  from  your  nostrils,  and  the  veins  stand  like  whip- 
chords  on  your  brow!  Set  the  mast  in  its  socket!  hoist  the  sail! 
Ah!  ah!  it  is  too  late!  Shrieking,  cursing,  howling,  blaspheming; 
over  they  go! 

"Power  of  Habit."  GOUGH. 

4.   All  the  little  boys  and  girls, 

With  rosy  cheeks  and  flaxen  curls, 
And  sparkling  eyes  and  teeth,  like  pearls, 
Tripping  and  skipping,  ran  merrily  after 
The  wonderful  music,  with  shouting  and  laughter. 
"The  Pied  Piper  of  Hamelin."  BROWNING. 

5.  A   cannon   which   breaks   its   moorings  becomes   abruptly 
some  indescribable,  supernatural  beast.     It  is  a  machine  which 
transforms  itself  into  a  monster.     This  mass  runs  on  its  wheels 
like  billiard-balls,   inclines  with  the  rolling,    plunges  with  the 
pitching,   goes,   comes,   stops,    seems   to   meditate,    resumes   its 
course,  shoots  from  one  end  of  the  ship  to  the  other  like  an 
arrow,  whirls,  steals  away,  evades,  prances,  strikes,  breaks,  kills, 
exterminates. 

"The  Cannon."  VICTOR  HUGO. 

6.  I  just  must  talk!    I  must  talk  all  the  time!    Of  course  I 
talk  entirely  too  much — no  one  knows  that  better  than  I  do — 
yet  I  can't  help  it!    I  know  that  my  continual  cackling  is  dread- 
ful, and  I  know  exactly  when  it  begins  to  bore  people,  but  some- 
how I  can't  stop  myself.    Aunt  Patsey  says  I  am  simply  fearful, 
and  just  like  a  girl  she  used  to  know,  who  lived  down  East,  a 
Miss  Polly  Blanton,  who  talked  all  the  time;  told  every  thing, 
every  thing  she  knew,  every  thing  she  had  ever  heard;  and  then 
when  she  could  think  of  nothing  else,  boldly  began  on  the  fam- 
ily secrets.    Well,  I  believe  I  am  just  like  that  girl — because  I 
am  constantly  telling  things  about  our  domestic  life  which  is  by 


68  HOW  TO  SPEAK  IN  PUBLIC 

no  means  pleasant.    Pa  and  ma  lead  an  awful  kind  of  existence 
— live  just  like  cats  and  dogs.     Now  I  ought  never  to  tell  that, 
yet  somehow  it  will  slip  out  in  spite  of  myself. 
"The  Buzz-Saw  Girl."  DOUGLASS  SHERLEY. 

QUANTITY 
Short  Quantity: 
1.       "Quit  the  bust  above  my  door ! 

Take  thy  beak  from  out  my  heart,  and  take  thy  form  from  off 

my  door!" 
"The  Eaven."  POE. 

2.  A  speck,  a  mist,  a  shape,  I  wist! 

And  still  it  neared  and  neared: 
As  if  it  dodged  a  water-sprite 

It  plunged,  and  tacked,  and  veered. 

3.  Singing  through  the  forest; 

Rattling  over  ridges; 
Shooting  under  arches, 

Rumbling  over  bridges; 
Whizzing  through  the  mountains; 

Buzzing  o'er  the  vale, — 
Bless  me,  this  is  pleasant, 

Riding  on  the  rail. 
"Railroad  Bhyme."  SAXE. 

Long  Quantity: 

1.    0  the  long  and  dreary  Winter ! 
0  the  cold  and  cruel  Winter ! 
Ever  thicker,  thicker,  thicker 
Froze  the  ice  on  lake  and  river; 
Ever  deeper,  deeper,  deeper 
Fell  the  snow  o'er  all  the  landscape, 
Fell  the  covering  snow,  and  drifted 
Through  the  forest,  round  the  village. 
"Hiawatha"  LONGFELLOW. 


MODULATION  69 

2.    0  Thou !  whose  balance  does  the  mountains  weigh, 
Whose  will  the  wild  tumultuous  seas  obey, 
Whose  breath  can  turn  those  watery  worlds  to  flame, 
That  flame  to  tempest,  and  that  tempest  tame. 

3.    The  curfew  tolls  the  knell  of  parting  day; 

The  lowing  herd  winds  slowly  o'er  the  lea; 
The  plowman  homeward  plods  his  weary  way, 
And  leaves  the  world  to  darkness  and  to  me. 
"Elegy  in  a  Country  Churchyard."  GRAY. 

PAUSING 

Pausing  is  of  two  kinds:  Grammatical  and  Rhetorical. 
The  grammatical  pause  indicates  the  synthetical  structure 
of  a  sentence.  The  rhetorical  pause  gives  greater  clearness 
and  expression  to  spoken  language,  by  dividing  words  more 
particularly  into  groups. 

1.   How  often,  oh,  how  often, 

In  the  days  that  had  gone  by, 
I  had  stood  on  that  bridge  at  midnight 
And  gazed  on  that  wave  and  sky ! 

How  often,  oh,  how  often, 

I  had  wished  that  the  ebbing  tide 
Would  bear  me  away  on  its  bosom 

O'er  the  ocean  wild  and  wide ! 
"The  Bridge."  LONGFELLOW. 

2.    Blow,  blow,  thou  winter  wind, 
Thou  art  not  so  unkind 

As  man's  ingratitude; 
Thy  tooth  is  not  so  keen, 
Because  thou  art  not  seen, 

Altho  thy  breath  be  rude. 


70  HOW  TO  SPEAK  IN  PUBLIC 

Freeze,  freeze,  thou  bitter  sky, 
That  dost  not  bite  so  nigh 

As  benefits  forgot: 
Tho  thou  the  waters  warp, 
Thy  sting  is  not  so  sharp, 

As  friend  remembered  not. 
"As  You  Like  It."  SHAKESPEARE. 


3.  Nothing  is  more  natural  than  to  imitate  (by  the  sound  of 
the  voice)  the  quality  of  the  sound  (or  noise)  which  any  external 
object  makes,  and  to  form  its  name  accordingly.  A  certain  bird 
is  termed  the  Cuckoo,  from  the  sound  which  it  emits.  When  one 
sort  of  wind  is  said  to  WHISTLE,  and  another  to  ROAR;  when 
a  serpent  is  said  to  HISS,  a  fly  to  BUZZ,  and  falling  timber  to 
CRASH;  when  a  stream  is  said  to  FLOW,  and  hail  to  RATTLE; 
the  analogy  between  the  word  and  the  thing  signified  is  plainly 
discernible.  BLAIR. 


4.  The  atrocious  crime  of  being  a  young  man,  which,  with  so 
much  spirit  and  decency,  the  honorable  gentleman  has  charged 
upon  me,  I  shall  neither  attempt  to  palliate  nor  deny.  PITT. 


5.    Forth  march'd  the  chief,  and,  distant  from  the  crowd, 
High  on  the  rampart  raised  his  voice  aloud. 


As  the  loud  trumpet's  brazen  mouth  from  far, 
With  shrilling  clangor  sounds  th'  alarm  of  war; 
So  high  his  dreadful  voice  the  hero  reared ; 
Hosts  dropped  their  arms,  and  trembled  as  they  heard. 
"The  Iliad."  HOMER. 

6.  Caesar  entered  upon  his  head — a  helmet  upon  his  left  arm — 
a  shield  upon  his  brow — a  cloud, in  his  right  hand — his  trusty 
sword  in  his  eye — fire ! 


MODULATION  71 

7.    There  is  a  tide  in  the  affairs  of  men 

Which,  taken  at  the  flood,  leads  on  to  fortune. 

Omitted,  all  the  voyage  of  their  life 

Is  bound  in  shallows  and  in  miseries. 

On  such  a  full  sea  are  we  now  afloat, 

And  we  must  take  the  current  when  it  serves 

Or  lose  our  ventures. 

"Julius  Ccesar."  SHAKESPEARE. 

8.   "Make  way  for  liberty !"  he  cried, 
Then  ran  with  arms  extended  wide, 
As  if  his  dearest  friend  to  clasp; 
Ten  spears  he  swept  within  his  grasp. 
"Make  way  for  liberty !"  he  cried ; 
Their  keen  points  met  from  side  to  side; 
He  bowed  amongst  them  like  a  tree, 
And  thus  made  way  for  liberty. 

"Arnold  Winkelried."  MONTGOMERY. 

9.    And  I  think,  in  the  lives  of  most  women  and  men, 

There's  a  moment  when  all  would  go  smooth  and  even, 
If  only  the  dead  could  find  out  when 
To  come  back  and  be  forgiven. 

"Aux  Italiens."  BULWER-LYTTON. 

INFLECTION 

Inflections  are  glides  of  the  voice  from  one  pitch  to  an- 
other, and  may  be  Rising,  Falling  or  Circumflex. 

Rising  inflection  indicates  suspension  of  sense,  and  is 
used  in  contingent  and  negative  clauses,  in  interrogative 
clauses  answered  by  "yes"  or  "no,"  in  statements  generally 
accepted  as  true,  in  language  of  entreaty  and  in  parentheses. 
It  is  frequently  used  in  expressions  of  love,  tenderness  and 
kindred  feeling. 


72  HOW  TO  SPEAK  IN  PUBLIC 

Falling  inflection  denotes  completion  of  sense  and  is  used 
in  positive  clauses,  in  interrogative  clauses  not  answered 
by  "yes"  or  ''no,"  and  in  emphatic  language. 

Circumflex  inflection  is  used  in  language  of  double  mean- 
ing, irony,  insinuation,  etc. 

Monotone,  a  single  unvaried  sound,  may  be  used  very 
effectively  to  express  awe,  reverence,  dignity  and  power. 
It  is  particularly  useful  where  a  maximum  amount  of  carry- 
ing power  is  desired,  as  in  speaking  in  large  buildings. 


RISING  INFLECTION 

1.  When  you  Athenians  become  a  helpless  rabble,  without  con- 
duct, without  property,  without  arms,  without  order,  without  una- 
nimity ;  when  neither  general  nor  any  other  person  hath  the  least 
respect  for  your  decrees,  when  no  man  dares  to  inform  you  of 
this  your  condition,  to  urge  the  necessary  reformation,  much  less 
to  exert  his  influence  to  effect  it:  then  is  your  constitution  sub- 
verted. DEMOSTHENES. 


2.   If  every  ducat  in  six  thousand  ducats 

Were  in  six  parts,  and  every  part  a  ducat, 
I  would  not  draw  them :  I  would  have  my  bond. 
'Merchant  of  Venice."  SHAKESPEARE. 


3.  Tho  he  who  excels  in  the  graces  of  writing  might  have 
been,  with  opportunities  and  application,  equally  successful  in 
those  of  conversation;  yet,  as  many  please  by  extemporary  talk, 
tho  utterly  unacquainted  with  the  more  accurate  method,  and 
more  labored  beauties,  which  composition  requires,  so  it  is  very 
possible  that  men  wholly  accustomed  to  works  of  study,  may  be 
without  that  readiness  of  conception,  and  affluence  of  language, 
always  necessary  to  colloquial  entertainment. 


MODULATION  73 

4.  If  a  cool  determined  courage,  that  no  apparently  hopeless 
struggle  could  lessen  or  subdue, — if  a  dauntless  resolution,  that 
shone  the  brightest  in  the  midst  of  the  greatest  difficulties  and 
dangers, — if  a  heart  ever  open  to  the  tenderest  affections  of 
our  nature  and  the  purest  pleasures  of  social  intercourse, — if  an 
almost  child-like  simplicity  of  character,  that,  while  incapable  of 
craft  or  dissimulation  in  itself,  yet  seemed  to  have  an  intuitive 
power  of  seeing  and  defeating  the  insidious  designs  and  treach- 
eries of  others, — if  characteristics  such  as  these  constitute  their 
possessor  a  hero,  then,  I  say,  foremost  in  the  rank  of  heroes  shines 
the  deathless  name  of  Washington! 


5.  They  tell  us,  sir,  that  we  are  weak, — unable  to  cope  with  so 
formidable  an  adversary.  But  when  shall  we  be  stronger?  Will 
it  be  the  next  week,  or  the  next  year?  Will  it  be  when  we  are 
totally  disarmed  and  when  a  British  guard  shall  be  stationed  in 
every  house?  Shall  we  gather  strength  by  irresolution  and  in- 
action? Shall  we  acquire  the  means  of  effectual  resistance  by 
lying  supinely  on  our  backs,  and  hugging  the  delusive  phantom 
of  hope,  until  our  enemy  shall  have  bound  us  hand  and  foot  ?  Sir, 
we  are  not  weak,  if  we  make  a  proper  use. of  those  means  which 
the  God  of  nature  hath  placed  in  our  power. 

PATRICK  HENRY. 


6.  Has  our  Maker  furnished  us  with  desires  which  have  no 
correspondent  objects,  and  raised  expectations  in  our  breasts  with 
no  other  view  than  to  disappoint  them?  Are  we  to  be  forever 
in  search  of  happiness  without  arriving  at  it,  either  in  this  world 
or  in  the  next?  Are  we  formed  with  a  passionate  longing  for 
immortality,  and  yet  destined  to  perish  after  this  short  period  of 
existence?  Are  we  prompted  to  the  noblest  actions,  and  sup- 
ported through  life  under  the  severest  hardships  and  most  trying 
temptations,  by  hopes  of  a  reward  which  is  visionary  and  chimer- 
ical?— by  the  expectation  of  praises  which  we  are  never  to  realize 
and  enjoy? 


74  HOW  TO  SPEAK- IN  PUBLIC 

7.   Oh,  save  me,  Hubert,  save  me ! 

For  Heaven's  sake,  Hubert,  let  me  not  be  bound. 
Nay,  hear  me,  Hubert,  drive  these  men  away, 
And  I  will  sit  as  quiet  as  a  lamb. 
Oh,  spare  mine  eyes, 

Tho  to  no  use  but  still  to  look  upon  you. 
"King  John"  SHAKESPEARE. 


8.  If  you  have  wit  (which  I  am  not  sure  that  I  wish  you,  unless 
you  have  at  the  same  time  at  least  an  equal  portion  of  judgment 
to  keep  it  in  good  order),  wear  it  like  your  sword,  in  the  scabbard, 
and  do  not  brandish  it  to  the  terror  of  the  whole  company. 

CHESTERFIELD. 

9.  Touch. — How  old  are  you,  friend  T 
Will. — Five  and  twenty,  sir. 

Touch. — A  ripe  age.    Is  thy  name  William? 
Will— William,  sir. 

Touch. — A  fair  name.    Wast  born  i'  the  forest  here? 
Will— Ay,  sir,  I  thank  God. 
Touch. — Thank  God !  a  good  answer.    Art  rich  ? 
Will— Faith,  sir,  so  so. 

Touch. — So  so  is  good,  very  good, — very  excellent  good:  and 
yet  it  is  not;  it  is  but  so  so.  SHAKESPEARE. 


10.  And  now,  as  I  close  my  task,  subduing  my  desire  to  linger 
yet,  these  faces  fade  away.  But  one  face,  shining  on  me  like  a 
heavenly  light,  by  which  I  see  all  other  objects,  is  above  them 
and  beyond  them  all.  And  that  remains.  I  turn  my  head  and 
see  it  in  its  beautiful  serenity  beside  me.  My  lamp  burns  low, 
and  I  have  written  far  into  the  night;  but  the  dear  presence  with- 
out which  I  were  nothing  bears  me  company.  Agnes,  0  my  soul, 
so  may  thy  face  be  by  me  when  I  close  my  life  indeed ;  so  may  I, 
when  realities  are  melting  from  me,  like  the  shadows  which  I  now 
dismiss,  still  find  thee  near  me,  pointing  upward! 

"David  Copperfield."  DICKENS. 


MODULATION  75 

FALLING  INFLECTION 

1.  Sir,  I  know  the  uncertainty  of  human  affairs,  but  I  see,  I 
see  clearly,  through  this  day's  business.  You  and  I  indeed  may 
rue  it.  We  may  not  live  to  the  time  when  this  Declaration  shall 
be  made  good.  We  may  die ;  die  colonists ;  die  slaves ;  die,  it  may 
be,  ignominiously  and  on  the  scaffold.  Be  it  so.  Be  it  so.  If  it 
be  the  pleasure  of  Heaven  that  my  country  shall  require  the  poor 
offering  of  my  life,  the  victim  shall  be  ready  at  the  appointed 
hour  of  sacrifice,  come  when  that  hour  may.  But  while  I  do  live, 
let  me  have  a  country,  or  at  least  the  hope  of  a  country,  and  that 
a  free  country.  DANIEL  WEBSTER. 


2.    The  charge  is  utterly,  totally  and  meanly  false ! 
"Invective  against  Carry."  GRATTAN. 


3.  How  far,  0  Catiline!  wilt  thou  abuse  our  patience?  How 
long  shalt  thou  baffle  justice  in  thy  mad  career?  To  what  extreme 
wilt  thou  carry  thy  audacity?  Art  thou  nothing  daunted  by  the 
nightly  watch  posted  to  secure  the  Palatium?  Nothing,  by  the 
city  guards?  Nothing,  by  the  rally  of  all  good  citizens?  Nothing, 
by  the  assembling  of  the  Senate  in  this  fortified  place?  Nothing, 
by  the  averted  looks  of  all  here  present?  CICERO. 


CIRCUMFLEX 

1.  0  Rome !  Rome !  thou  hast  been  a  tender  nurse  to  me.  Ay ! 
thou  hast  given  to  that  poor,  gentle,  timid  shepherd-lad,  who  never 
knew  a  harsher  tone  than  a  flute-note,  muscles  of  iron  and  a  heart 
of  flint;  taught  him  to  drive  the  sword  through  plaited  mail  and 
links  of  rugged  brass,  and  warm  it  in  the  marrow  of  his  foe: — 
to  gaze  into  the  glaring  eye-balls  of  the  fierce  Numidian  lion  even 
as  a  boy  upon  a  laughing  girl ! 


76  HOW  TO  SPEAK  IN  PUBLIC 

2.    And  this  man 

Is  now  become  a  god;  and  Cassius  is 
A  wretched  creature,  and  must  bend  his  body, 
If  Ca}sar  carelessly  but  nod  on  him. 
He  had  a  fever  when  he  was  in  Spain, 
And,  when  the  fit  was  on  him,  I  did  mark 
How  he  did  shake :   'tis  true,  this  god  did  shake : 
His  coward  lips  did  from  their  color  fly; 
And  that  same  eye,  whose  bend  doth  awe  the  world, 
Did  lose  its  luster. 
"Julius  Ccesar"  SHAKESPEARE. 

3.    None  dared  withstand  him  to  his  face, 
But  one  sly  maiden  spake  aside: 
"The  little  witch  is  evil  eyed! 
Her  mother  only  killed  a  cow, 

Or  witched  a  churn  or  dairy-pan; 
But  she,  forsooth,  must  charm  a  man!" 

4.  It  is  vastly  easy  for  you,  Mistress  Dial,  who  have  always, 
as  everybody  knows,  set  yourself  up  above  me, — it  is  vastly  easy 
for  you,  I  say,  to  accuse  other  people  of  laziness. 

5.    But  were  I  Brutus, 

And  Brutus  Antony,  there  were  an  Antony 
Would  ruffle  up  your  spirits,  and  put  a  tongue 
In  every  wound  of  Ca3sar,  that  should  move 
The  stones  of  Rome  to  rise  and  mutiny. 
"Julius  Casar."  SHAKESPEARE. 

6.  Do  you  think  to  frighten  me?  you!  Do  you  think  to  turn 
me  from  any  purpose  that  I  have,  or  any  course  I  am  resolved 
upon,  by  reminding  me  of  the  solitude  of  this  place  and  there 
being  no  help  near?  He,  who  am  here  alone  designedly?  If  I 
had  feared  you,  should  I  not  have  avoided  you?  If  I  feared  you, 
should  I  be  here  in  the  dead  of  night,  telling  you  to  your  face 
what  I  am  going  to  tell?  But  I  tell  you  nothing  until  you  go 


MODULATION  77 

back  to  that  chair — except  this  once  again.  Do  not  dare  to  come 
near  me — not  a  step  nearer.  I  have  something  lying  here  that 
is  no  love  trinket;  and  sooner  than  endure  your  touch  once  more, 
I  would  use  it  on  you — and  you  know  it  while  I  speak — with  less 
reluctance  than  I  would  on  any  other  creeping  thing  that  lives. 

MONOTONE 
1.   Holy!  holy!  holy!    Lord  God  of  Sabaoth! 

2.  ...     In  all  time, 

Calm  or  convulsed, — in  breeze,  or  gale,  or  storm, — 
Icing  the  pole,  or  in  the  torrid  clime 
Dark  heaving; — boundless,  endless,  and  sublime, — 

The  image  of  Eternity, — the  throne 
Of  the  Invisible;—     .      .      . 

.     .     .     thou  goest  forth,  dread,  fathomless,  alone 

3.   Methought  I  heard  a  voice  cry — "Sleep  no  more, 
Macbeth  doth  murder  sleep — the  innocent  sleep: 
Sleep  that  knits  up  the  ravelled  sleeve  of  care, 
The  death  of  each  day's  life,  sore  labor's  bath, 
Balm  of  hurt  minds,  great  Nature's  second  course, 
Chief  nourisher  in  Life's  feast." 
Still  it  cried  "Sleep  no  more!"  to  all  the  house: 
"Glamis  hath  murdered  Sleep,  and  therefore  Cawdor 
Shall  sleep  no  more ! — Macbeth  shall  sleep  no  more !" 
"Macbeth."  SHAKESPEARE. 

4.   King  John.  ...    If  the  midnight  bell 

Did  with  his  iron  tongue  and  brazen  mouth, 
Sound  on  into  the  drowsy  race  of  night; 
If  this  same  were  a  churchyard  where  we  stand, 
And  thou  possessed  with  a  thousand  wrongs; 
Or  if  that  surly  spirit,  Melancholy, 
Had  baked  thy  blood,  and  made  it  heavy,  thick, 
(Which  else  runs  tickling  up  and  down  the  veins, 
Making  that  idiot,  Laughter,  keep  men's  eyes, 


78  HOW  TO  SPEAK  IN  PUBLIC 

And  strain  their  cheeks  to  idle  merriment, 
A  passion  hateful  to  my  purposes) , 
Or  if  that  thou  eould'st  see  me  without  eyes, 
Hear  me  without  thine  ears,  and  make  reply 
Without  a  tongue,  using  conceit  alone, 
Without  eyes,  ears,  and  harmful  sound  of  words, 
Then,  in  despite  of  brooding,  watchful  day, 
I  would  into  thy  bosom  pour  my  thoughts. 
"King  John."  SHAKESPEARE. 

FORCE 

Force  has  reference  to  the  degree  of  strength  of  the  voice. 
It  should  be  carefully  distinguished  from  Pitch.  For 
practising  purposes  it  is  divided  into  Gentle,  Moderate, 
Loud  and  Very  Loud  Force. 

GENTLE 

1.    0  hark,  0  hear !  how  thin  and  clear, 

And  thinner,  clearer,  farther  going; 
0  sweet  and  far,  from  cliff  and  scar, 

The  horns  of  Elf  land  faintly  blowing! 
"Bugle  Song."  TENNYSON. 

2.  Like  as  a  father  pitieth  his  children,  so  the  Lord  pitieth 
them  that  fear  him.  For  he  knoweth  our  frame ;  he  remembereth 
that  we  are  dust.  As  for  man,  his  days  are  as  grass;  as  a  flower 
of  the  field,  so  he  flourisheth :  for  the  wind  passeth  over  it,  and  it 
is  gone ;  and  the  place  thereof  shall  know  it  no  more. 

3.    0  sweet  and  strange  it  seems  to  me,  that  ere  this  day  is  done, 
The  voice  that  now  is  speaking,  may  be  beyond  the  sun. 
Forever  and  forever, — all  in  a  blessed  home, — 
And  there  to  wait  a  little  while,  till  you  and  Erne  come. 
To  lie  within  the  light  of  God,  as  I  lie  upon  your  breast, — 
And  the  wicked  cease  from  troubling,  and  the  weary  are  at  rest. 
"The  May  Queen."  TENNYSON. 


MODULATION  79 

MODERATE 

1.  Now,  a  living  force  that  brings  to  itself  all  the  resources  of 
imagination,  all  the  inspirations  of  feeling,  all  that  is  influential 
in  body,  in  voice,  in  eye,  in  gesture,  in  posture,  in  the  whole 
animated  man,  is  in  strict  analogy  with  the  divine  thought  and  the 
divine  arrangement;  and  there  is  no  misconstruction  more  utterly 
untrue  and  fatal  than  this:  that  oratory  is  an  artificial  thing, 
which  deals  with  baubles  and  trifles,  for  the  sake  of  making  bub- 
bles of  pleasure  for  transient  effect  on  mercurial  audiences.     So 
far  from  that,  it  is  the  consecration  of  the  whole  man  to  the 
noblest  purposes  to  which  one  can  address  himself — the  education 
and  inspiration  of  his  fellow  men  by  all  that  there  is  in  learning, 
by  all  that  there  is  in  thought,  by  all  that  there  is  in  feeling,  by 
all  that  there  is  in  all  of  them,  sent  home  through  the  channels 
of  taste  and  beauty.     And  so  regarded,  oratory  should  take  its 
place  among  the  highest  departments  of  education. 

BEECHEB. 

2.  Once  or  twice  in  a  lifetime  we  are  permitted  to  enjoy  the 
charm  of  noble  manners,  in  the  presence  of  a  man  or  woman  who 
have  no  bar  in  their  nature,  but  whose  character  emanates  freely 
in  their  word  and  gesture.     A  beautiful  form  is  better  than  a 
beautiful  face;  a  beautiful  behavior  is  better  than  a  beautiful 
form:  it  gives  a  higher  pleasure  than  statues  or  pictures, — it  is 
the  finest  of  the  fine  arts.    A  man  is  but  a  little  thing  in  the  midst 
of  the  objects  of  nature,  yet,  by  the  moral  quality  radiating  from 
his  countenance,  he  may  abolish  all  considerations  of  magnitude, 
and  in  his  manners  equal  the  majesty  of  the  world.    I  have  seen 
an   individual,   whose   manners,   tho   wholly   within   the   conven- 
tions of  elegant  society,  were  never  learned  there,  but  were  or- 
iginal and  commanding,  and  held  out  protection  and  prosperity; 
one  who  did  not  need  the  aid  of  a  court-suit,  but  carried  the  holi- 
day in  his  eye;  who  exhilarated  the  fancy  by  flinging  wide  the 
doors  of  new  modes  of  existence;  who  shook  off  the  captivity  of 
etiquette,   with  happy   spirited  bearing,   good-natured   and  free 
as  Robin  Hood;  yet  with  the  port  of  an  emperor,  if  need  be, 
calm,  serious,  and  fit  to  stand  the  gaze  of  millions. 

"Manners."  EMERSON. 


80  HOW  TO  SPEAK  IN  PUBLIC 

3.  Is  there  not  an  amusement,  having  an  affinity  with  the 
drama,  which  might  be  usefully  introduced  among  us?  I  mean, 
Recitation. 

A  work  of  genius,  recited  by  a  man  of  fine  taste,  enthusiasm, 
and  powers  of  elocution,  is  a  very  pure  and  high  gratification. 

Were  this  art  cultivated  and  encouraged,  great  numbers,  now 
insensible  to  the  most  beautiful  compositions,  might  be  waked 
up  to  their  excellence  and  power. 

It  is  not  easy  to  conceive  of  a  more  effectual  way  of  spreading 
a  refined  taste  through  a  community.  The  drama  undoubtedly 
appeals  more  strongly  to  the  passions  than  recitation;  but  the 
latter  brings  out  the  meaning  of  the  author  more.  Shakespeare, 
worthily  recited,  would  be  better  understood  than  on  the  stage. 

Recitation,  sufficiently  varied,  so  as  to  include  pieces  of  chaste 
wit,  as  well  as  of  pathos,  beauty,  and  sublimity,  is  adapted  to 
our  present  intellectual  progress.  CHANNING. 


LOUD 

1.   Ye  crags  and  peaks,  I'm  with  you  once  again ! 
I  hold  to  you  the  hands  you  first  beheld, 
To  show  they  are  still  free.    Methinks  I  hear 
A  spirit  in  your  echoes  answer  me, 
And  bid  your  tenant  welcome  to  his  home 
Again !    0  sacred  forms,  how  proud  you  look ! 
How  high  you  lift  your  heads  into  the  sky ! 
How  huge  you  are!  how  mighty  and  how  free! 
Ye  are  the  things  that  tower,  that  shine, — whose  smile 
Makes  glad,  whose  frown  is  terrible,  whose  forms, 
Robed  or  unrobed,  do  all  the  impress  wear 
Of  awe  divine.    Ye  guards  of  liberty, 
I'm  with  you  once  again !    I  call  to  you 
With  all  my  voice !    I  hold  my  hands  to  you, 
To  show  they  still  are  free.    I  rush  to  you, 
As  tho  I  could  embrace  you. 

"Tell  on  His  Native  Hills."  J.  S.  KNOWLES. 


MODULATION  81 

2.   King  Henry.    Once  more  unto  the  breach,  dear  friends,  once 

more; 

Or  close  the  wall  up  with  our  English  dead ! 
In  peace  there's  nothing  so  becomes  a  man 
As  modest  stillness  and  humility: 
But  when  the  blast  of  war  blows  in  our  ears, 
Then  imitate  the  action  of  the  tiger; 
Stiffen  the  sinews,  summon  up  the  blood, 
Disguise  fair  nature  with  hard-favor'd  rage; 
Then  lend  the  eye  a  terrible  aspect ; 
Let  it  pry  through  the  portage  of  the  head, 

Like  the  brass  cannon 

Now  set  the  teeth,  and  stretch  the  nostril  wide; 
Hold  hard  the  breath,  and  bend  up  every  spirit 
To  his  full  height! — On,  on,  ye  noblest  English, 
Whose  blood  is  fet  from  fathers  of  war-proof! 
Fathers,  that,  like  so  many  Alexanders, 
Have  in  these  parts  from  morn  till  even  fought, 
And  sheath'd  their  swords  for  lack  of  argument.    .     .     . 
I  see  you  stand  like  greyhounds  in  the  slips, 
Straining  upon  the  start.    The  game's  afoot : 
Follow  your  spirit;  and,  upon  this  charge, 
Cry — God  for  Harry !  England !  and  Saint  George ! 
"Henry  V"  SHAKESPEARE. 

3.  Our  fathers  raised  their  flag  against  a  power  to  which,  for 
purposes  of  foreign  conquest  and  subjugation,  Rome,  in  the 
height  of  her  glory,  is  not  to  be  compared, — a  power  which  has 
dotted  the  surface  of  the  whole  globe  with  her  possessions  and 
military  posts;  whose  morning  drumbeat,  following  the  sun  in 
its  course  and  keeping  pace  with  the  hours,  circles  the  earth  with 
one  continuous  and  unbroken  strain  of  the  martial  airs  of  Eng- 
land. WEBSTER. 

VERY  LOUD 
1.    From  every  hill,  by  every  sea, 

In  shouts  proclaim  the  great  decree, 
"All  chains  are  burst,  all  men  are  free !" 
Hurrah,  hurrah,  hurrah! 


8-4  HOW  TO  SPEAK  IN  PUBLIC 

2.  "Victoria!"  sounds  the  trumpet, 

"Victoria!"  all  around; 
"Victoria!"  like  loud  thunder 
It  runs  along  the  ground. 

3.  "Forward,  the  light  brigade ! 
Charge  for  the  guns !"  he  said : 
Into  the  valley  of  Death 

Rode  the  six  hundred. 
"The  Charge  of  the  Light  Brigade."  TENNYSON. 


CHAPTER   VI 

MODULATION  (Continued) 
STRESS 

Force  applied  to  syllables  or  words  is  called  Stress,  and 
may  be  Initial,  Median,  Terminal,  Compound,  Thorough  or 
Intermittent. 

INITIAL 

1.   Go  ring  the  bells  and  fire  the  guns, 
And  fling  the  starry  banners  out ; 
Shout  "Freedom !"  till  your  lisping  ones 
Give  back  their  cradle  shout. 


2.  But  it  can  not,  shall  not  be;  this  great  woe  to  our  beloved 
country,  this  catastrophe  for  the  cause  of  national  freedom,  this 
grievous  calamity  for  the  whole  civilized  world, — it  can  not  be, 
it  shall  not  be.  No,  by  the  glorious  Nineteenth  of  April,  1775; 
no,  by  the  precious  blood  of  Bunker  Hill,  of  Princeton,  of  Sara- 
toga, of  King's  Mountain,  of  Yorktown ;  no,  by  the  dear  immortal 
memory  of  Washington,  that  sorrow  and  shame  shall  never  be. 

EVERETT. 


3.  "Now  upon  the  rebels,  charge!"  shouts  the  red-coat  officer. 
They  spring  forward  at  the  same  bound.  Look!  their  bayonet? 
almost  touch  the  muzzles  of  their  rifles.  At  this  moment  the  voice 
of  the  unknown  rider  was  heard :  "Now  let  them  have  it !  Fire !" 

CHARLES  SHEPPARD. 


84  HOW  TO  SPEAK  IN  PUBLIC 

4.  Sink  or  swim,  live  or  die,  survive  or  perish,  I  give  my  hand 
and  my  heart  to  this  vote !  Sir,  before  God  I  believe  the  hour  is 
come.  My  judgment  approves  this  measure,  and  my  whole  heart 
is  in  it.  All  that  I  have,  and  all  that  I  am,  and  all  that  I  hope 
in  this  life,  I  am  now  ready  to  stake  upon  it;  and  I  leave  off  as 
I  began,  that,  live  or  die,  survive  or  perish,  I  am  for  the  declara- 
tion. It  is  my  living  sentiment,  and,  by  the  blessing  of  God,  it 
shall  be  my  dying  sentiment : — Independence  now,  and  Independ- 
ence forever.  WEBSTER. 

MEDIAN 

1.  How  beautiful  this  night !    The  balmiest  sigh, 
That  vernal  zephyrs  breathe  in  evening's  ear 
Were  discord  to  the  speaking  quietude, 

That  wraps  this  moveless  scene.    Heaven's  ebon  vault, 
Studded  with  stars  unutterably  bright, 
Through  which  the  moon's  unclouded  grandeur  rolls, 
Seems  like  a  canopy  which  love  has  spread 
To  curtain  her  sleeping  world. 
"Queen  Mob."  SHELLEY. 

2.  So  live,  that  when  thy  summons  comes  to  join 
The  innumerable  caravan,  that  moves 

To  the  pale  realms  of  shade,  where  each  shall  take 
His  chamber  in  the  silent  halls  of  death, 
Thou  go  not,  like  the  quarry-slave  at  night, 
Scourged  to  his  dungeon ;  but,  sustained  and  soothed 
By  an  unfaltering  trust,  approach  thy  grave, 
Like  one  who  wraps  the  drapery  of  his  couch 
About  him,  and  lies  down  to  pleasant  dreams. 
"Thanatopsis."  BRYANT. 

3.  And  you,  ye  storms,  howl  out  his  greatness!  Let  your 
thunders  roll  like  drums  in  the  march  of  the  God  of  armies !  Let 
your  lightnings  write  his  name  in  fire  on  the  midnight  darkness; 
let  the  illimitable  void  of  space  become  one  mouth  for  song;  and 
let  the  unnavigated  ether,  through  its  shoreless  depths,  bear 


MODULATION  85 

through  the  infinite  remote  the  name  of  him  whose  goodness 
endureth  forever!  SPURGEON. 

4.  Father,  Thy  hand 

Hath  reared  these  venerable  columns;  Thou 
Didst  weave  this  verdant  roof.    Thou  didst  look  down 
Upon  the  naked  earth,  and  forthwith  rose 
All  these  fair  ranks  of  trees.    They  in  Thy  sun 
Budded,  and  shook  their  green  leaves  in  Thy  breeze, 
And  shot  toward  heaven. 
"God's  First  Temples."  BRYANT. 

TERMINAL 

1.   But  here  I  stand  and  scoff  you !  here  I  fling 
Hatred  and  full  defiance  in  your  face ! 
Your  Consul's  merciful ; — for  this  all  thanks. 
He  dares  not  touch  a  hair  of  Catiline ! 
"Catiline's  Defiance."  GEORGE  CROLY. 

2.  It  is  often  said  that  time  is  wanted  for  the  duties  of  religion. 
The  calls  of  business,  the  press  of  occupation,  the  cares  of  life, 
will  not  suffer  me,  says  one,  to  give  that  time  to  the  duties  of 
piety  which  otherwise  I  would  gladly  bestow.  Say  you  this  with- 
out a  blush?  You  have  no  time,  then,  for  the  special  service  of 
that  great  Being  whose  goodness  alone  has  drawn  out  to  its 
present  length  your  cobweb  thread  of  life,  whose  care  alone  has 
continued  you  in  possession  of  that  unseen  property  which  you 
call  your  time.  BUCKINGHAM. 

3.    You've  set  me  talking,  sir;  I'm  sorry; 

It  makes  me  wild  to  think  of  the  change ! 
What  do  you  care  for  a  beggar's  story? 

Is  it  amusing?    You  find  it  strange? 
I  had  a  mother  so  proud  of  me ! 

'Twas  well  she  died  before — Do  you  know 
If  the  happy  spirits  in  heaven  can  see 

The  ruin  and  wretchedness  here  below? 
"The  Vagabonds."  TROWBRIDGE. 


86  HOW  TO  SPEAK  IN  PUBLIC 

4.   And,  Douglas,  more  I  tell  thee  here, 

Even  in  thy  pitch  of  pride, 
Here  in  thy  hold,  thy  vassals  near, 

I  tell  thee,  thou'rt  defied! 
And,  if  thou  said'st  I  am  not  peer 
To  any  lord  in  Scotland  here, 
Lowland  or  Highland,  far  or  near, 

Lord  Angus,  thou  hast  lied ! 
"Marmion  and  Douglas."  SIR  WALTER  SCOTT. 

COMPOUND 

1.    Gone  to  be  married !  gone  to  swear  a  peace ! 
It  is  not  so ;  thou  hast  misspoke,  misheard ; 
Be  well  advised,  tell  o'er  thy  tale  again. 
It  cannot  be ;  thou  dost  but  say  't  is  so. 

2.   "Arm,  warriors,  arm  for  fight ;  the  foe  at  hand, 

Whom  fled  we  thought,  will  save  us  long  pursuit  this  day." 

THOROUGH 

1.   Ho!  sound  the  tocsin  from  the  tower, 

And  fire  the  culverin! 
Bid  each  retainer  arm  with  speed, — 

Call  every  vassal  in! 
"The  Baron's  Last  Banquet."  A.  G.  GREENE. 


I  conjure  you,  by  that  which  you  profess 
(Howe'er  you  come  to  know  it),  answer  me. 
Tho  you  untie  the  winds,  and  let  them  fight 
Against  the  churches;  tho  the  yeasty  waves 
Confound  and  swallow  navigation  up; 
Tho  bladed  corn  be  lodged,  and  trees  blown  down; 
Tho  castles  topple  on  their  warders'  heads; 


MODULATION  87 

Tho  palaces,  and  pyramids,  do  slope 
Their  heads  to  their  foundations;  tho  the  treasure 
Of  nature's  germins  tumble  all  together, 
Even  till  destruction  sicken, — answer  me 
To  what  I  ask  you. 
"Macbeth."  SHAKESPEARE. 

3.    And  now  the  martyr  is  moving  in  triumphal  march,  mightier 
than  when  alive. 

BEECHER. 

INTERMITTENT 

1.    Pity  the  sorrows  of  a  poor  old  man, 

Whose  trembling  limbs  have  borne  him  to  your  door, 
Whose  days  are  dwindled  to  the  shortest  span; 

Oh!  give  relief,  and  Heav'n  will  bless  your  store. 
"The  Beggar."  THOMAS  Moss. 

2.    I  tax  not  you,  you  elements,  with  unkindness. 
I  never  gave  you  kingdom,  called  you  children. 
You  owe  me  no  subscription.    Why,  then,  let  fall 
Your  horrible  pleasure?    Here  I  stand,  your  slave, — 
A  poor,  infirm,  weak,  and  despised  old  man. 

3.  We  buried  the  old  year  in  silence  and  sadness.     To  many 
it  brought  misfortune  and  affliction.     The  wife  hath  given  her 
husband  and  the  husband  his  wife  at  its  stern  behest;  the  father 
hath  consigned  to  its  cold  arms  the  son  in  whom  his  life  cen- 
tered, and  the  mother  hath  torn  from  her  bosom  her  tender  babe 
and  buried  it  in  her  heart  in  the  cold,  cold  ground. 

EDWARD  BROOKS. 

4.  Save  me,  0  God,  for  the  waters  are  come  in  unto  my  soul. 
I  sink  in  deep  mire  where  there  is  no  standing:    I  am  come  into 
deep  water  where  the  floods  overflow  me.     I  am  weary  of  my 
crying;  my  throat  is  dried;  mine  eyes  fail  while  I  wait  for  my 
God. 


88  HOW  TO  SPEAK  IN  PUBLIC 

RHYTHM 

In  the  reading  of  both  prose  and  poetry,  there  is  a 
rhythmic  movement  that  is  physiological  in  its  basis.  The 
succession  of  heavy  and  light  sounds,  or  accented  and  un- 
accented syllables,  is  in  keeping  with  the  action  and  re- 
action found  in  the  larynx  itself,  where  an  alternate  ten- 
sion and  relaxation  of  the  vocal  chords  takes  place.  This 
marking  of  time  is  as  natural  as  the  beating  of  the  pulse 
and  is  essential  to  musical  utterance.  Professor  Raymond, 
in  * '  Poetry  as  a  Representative  Art, ' '  says :  '  *  With  excep- 
tions, the  fewness  of  which  confirms  the  rule,  all  of  our 
English  words  of  more  than  one  syllable  must  necessarily 
be  accented  in  one  way ;  and  all  of  our  articles,  prepositions, 
and  conjunctions  of  one  syllable  are  unaccented,  unless  the 
sense  very  plainly  demands  a  different  treatment.  These 
two  facts  enable  us  to  arrange  any  number  of  our  words 
so  that  accents  shall  fall  on  syllables  separated  by  like  in- 
tervals. The  tendency  to  compare  things,  and  to  put  like 
with  like,  which  is  in  constant  operation  where  there  are 
artistic  possibilities,  leads  men  to  take  satisfaction  in  this 
kind  of  an  arrangement ;  and  when  they  have  made  it,  they 
have  produced  rhythm. " 

1.  In  slumbers  of  midnight  the  sailor  boy  lay, 

His  hammock  swung  loose  to  the  sport  of  the  wind : 
But  watch-worn  and  weary  his  cares  flew  away, 

And  visions  of  happiness  danced  o'er  his  mind. 
"The  Sailor  Boy's  Dream."  DIMOND. 

2.  For  the  moon  never  beams  without  bringing  me  dreams 

Of  the  beautiful  Annabel  Lee, 
And  the  stars  never  rise  but  I  feel  the  bright  eyes 
Of  the  beautiful  Annabel  Lee. 


MODULATION  89 

And  so  all  the  night-tide  I  lie  down  by  the  side 
Of  my  darling,  my  darling,  my  life  and  my  bride, 

In  her  sepulcher  there  by  the  sea, 

In  her  tomb  by  the  sounding  sea. 
"Annabel  Lee."  FOE. 

3.    A  hurry  of  hoofs  in  a  village  street, 
A  shape  in  the  moonlight,  a  bulk  in  the  dark, 
And  beneath  from  the  pebbles,  in  passing,  a  spark  • 

Struck  out  by  a  steed  flying  fearless  and  fleet : 
That  was  all !    And  yet,  through  the  gloom  and  the  light,    . 
The  fate  of  a  nation  was  riding  that  night; 
And  the  spark  struck  out  by  that  steed,  in  his  flight, 

Kindled  the  land  into  flame  with  its  heat. 
"Paul  Revere's  Ride"  LONGFELLOW. 

4.    When  the  mists  have  rolled  in  splendor 

From  the  beauty  of  the  hills, 
And  the  sunshine,  warm  and  tender, 

Falls  in  kisses  on  the  rills, 
We  may  read  Love's  shining  letter 

In  the  rainbow  of  the  spray; 
We  shall  know  each  other  better 

When  the  mists  have  rolled  away. 
We  shall  know  as  we  are  known, 

Never  more  to  walk  alone, 
In  the  dawning  of  the  morning, 

When  the  mists  have  rolled  away, 

5.  Blessed  is  the  man  that  walketh  not  in  the  counsel  of  the  wicked. 
Nor  standeth  in  the  way  of  sinners, 
Nor  sitteth  in  the  seat  of  scoffers : 
But  his  delight  is  in  the  law  of  Jehovah ; 
And  on  his  law  doth  he  meditate  day  and  night. 
And  he  shall  be  like  a  tree  planted  by  the  streams  of  water, 
That  bringeth  forth  its  fruit  in  its  season, 
Whose  leaf  also  doth  not  wither; 
And  whatsoever  he  doeth  shall  prosper. 


90  HOW  TO  SPEAK  IN  PUBLIC 

The  wicked  are  not  so, 

But  are  like  the  chaff  which  the  wind  driveth  away. 
Therefore  the  wicked  shall  not  stand  in  the  judgment, 
Nor  sinners  in  the  congregation  of  the  righteous. 
For  Jehovah  knoweth  the  way  of  the  righteous; 
But  the  way  of  the  wicked  shall  perish. 
"First  Psalm."  THE  BIBLE. 


6.    When  I  do  count  the  clock  that  tells  the  time, 

And  see  the  brave  day  sunk  in  hideous  night; 
When  I  behold  the  violet  past  prime, 

And  sable  curls  all  silvered  o'er  with  white ; 
When  lofty  trees  I  see  barren  of  leaves, 

Which  erst  from  heat  did  canopy  the  herd, 
And  summer's  green  all  girdled  up  in  sheaves, 

Borne  on  the  bier  with  white  and  bristly  beard ; 
Then  of  thy  beauty  do  I  question  make, 

That  thou  among  the  wastes  of  time  must  go, 
Since  sweets  and  beauties  do  themselves  forsake, 
And  die  as  fast  as  they  see  others  grow ; 

And  nothing  'gainst  Time's  scythe  can  make  defense 
Save  breed,  to  brave  him  when  he  takes  thee  hence. 


Shall  I  compare  thee  to  a  summer's  day  ? 

Thou  art  more  lovely  and  more  temperate : 
Rough  winds  do  shake  the  darling  buds  of  May, 

And  summer's  lease  hath  all  too  short  a  date. 
Sometimes  too  hot  the  eye  of  heaven  shines, 

And  often  is  his  gold  complexion  dimm'd ; 
And  every  fair  from  fair  sometimes  declines, 

By  chance,  or  nature's  changing  course  untrimm'd; 
But  thy  eternal  summer  shall  not  fade, 

Nor  lose  possession  of  that  fair  thou  owest; 
Nor  shall  Death  brag  thou  wander'st  in  his  shade, 

When  in  eternal  lines  to  time  thou  growest. 

So  long  as  men  can  breathe,  or  eyes  can  see, 
So  long  lives  this,  and  this  gives  life  to  thee. 


MODULATION  91 

As  an  unperf ect  actor  on  the  stage, 

Who  with  his  fear  is  put  besides  his  part, 
Or  some  fierce  thing  replete  with  too  much  rage, 

Whose  strength's  abundance  weakens  his  own  heart; 
So  I,  for  fear  of  trust,  forget  to  say 

The  perfect  ceremony  of  love's  rite, 
And  in  mine  own  love's  strength  seem  to  decay, 

Overcharged  with  burthen  of  mine  own  love's  might. 
0,  let  my  books  be  then  the  eloquence 

And  dumb  presagers  of  my  speaking  breast, 
Who  plead  for  love,  and  look  for  recompense, 

More  than  that  tongue  that  more  hath  more  expressed. 
0,  learn  to  read  what  silent  love  hath  writ : 
To  hear  with  eyes  belongs  to  love's  fine  wit. 
"Sonnets."  SHAKESPEARE. 


TRANSITION 

The  abrupt  changes  and  quick  contrasts  made  in  the 
modulations  of  the  voice  are  called  transitions.  The  ability 
to  make  these  changes  promptly  and  gracefully  is  an  im- 
portant element  in  good  reading. 


1.    Soft  is  the  strain  when  zephyr  gently  blows, 

And  the  smooth  stream  in  smoother  numbers  flow; 
But  when  loud  surges  lash  the  sounding  shore, 
The  hoarse,  rough  verse  should  like  the  torrent  roar. 


When  Ajax  strives  some  rock's  vast  weight  to  throw, 
The  line,  too,  labors,  and  the  words  move  slow; 
Not  so,  when  swift  Camilla  scours  the  plain, 
Flies  o'er  the  unbending  corn  and  skims  along  the  main.    . 
"Essay  on  Criticism."  POPE. 


92  HOW  TO  SPEAK  IN  PUBLIC 

2.    0,  how  our  organ  can  speak  with  its  many  and  wonderful 

voices ! — 

Play  on  the  soft  lute  of  love,  blow  the  loud  trumpet  of  war, 
Sing  with  the  high  sesquialter,  or,  drawing  its  full  diapason, 
Shake  all  the  air  with  the  grand  storm  of  its  pedals  and  stops. 

STORY. 

3.    Ever,  as  on  they  bore,  more  loud, 
And  louder  rang  the  pibroch  proud. 
At  first  the  sound,  by  distance  tame, 
Mellowed,  along  the  waters  came; 
And  lingering  long  by  cape  and  bay, 
Wailed  every  harsher  note  away; 
When  bursting  bolder  on  the  ear, 
The  clan's  shrill  gathering  they  could  hear, — 
Those  thrilling  sounds,  that  call  the  might 
Of  old  Clan- Alpine  to  the  fight. 


4.    How  soft  the  music  of  those  village  bells, 
Falling  at  intervals  upon  the  ear 
In  cadence  sweet,  now  dying  all  away, 
Now  pealing  loud  again  and  louder  still, 
Clear  and  sonorous,  as  the  gale  comes  on. 

'  COWPER. 


5.  When  you  are  enacting  a  part,  think  of  your  voice  as  a 
color,  and,  as  you  paint  your  picture  (the  character  you  are  paint- 
ing, the  scene  you  are  portraying),  mix  your  colors.  You  have 
on  your  palate  a  white  voice,  la  voix  blanche;  a  heavenly,  ethereal 
or  blue  voice,  the  voice  of  prayer;  a  disagreeable,  jealous,  or 
yellow  voice;  a  steel-gray  voice,  for  quiet  sarcasm;  a  brown  voice 
of  hopelessness ;  a  lurid,  red  voice  of  hot  rage ;  a  deep,  thunderous 
voice  of  black;  a  cheery  voice,  the  color  of  the  green  sea,  that  a 
brisk  breeze  is  crisping;  and  then  there's  a  pretty  little  pink 
voice — and  shades  of  violet — but  the  subject  is  endless. 

MANSFIELD. 


MODULATION  93 


CLIMAX 

Climax  is  the  artistic  building  up  of  a  dramatic  effect 
by  means  of  increased  force  and  intensity. 


1.    We  have  petitioned,  we  have  remonstrated,  we  have  sup- 
plicated, we  have  prostrated  ourselves  at  the  foot  of  the  throne. 

PATRICK  HENRY. 


2.  I  not  only  did  not  say  this,  but  did  not  even  write  it;  I  not 
only  did  not  write  it,  but  took  no  part  in  the  embassy;  I  not  only 
took  no  part  in  the  embassy,  but  used  no  persuasion  with  the 
Thebans. 

"On  the  Crown."  DEMOSTHENES. 


3.  It  is  coming  fast  upon  you;  already  it  is  near  at  hand — yet 
a  few  short  weeks,  and  we  may  be  in  the  midst  of  those  unspeak- 
able miseries  the  recollection  of  which  now  rends  your  souls 
asunder.  LORD  BROUGHAM. 


4.  They  must  be  repealed.  You  will  repeal  them.  I  pledge 
myself  for  it  that  you  will  in  the  end  repeal  them:  I  stake  my 
reputation  on  it.  I  will  consent  to  be  taken  for  an  idiot  if  they 
are  not  finally  repealed.  CHATHAM. 

5.    Ay,  is  it  so? 

Then  wakes  the  power  which  in  the  age  of  iron 
Bursts  forth  to  curb  the  great,  and  raise  the  low. 
Mark,  where  she  stand :  around  her  form  I  draw 
The  awful  circle  of  our  solemn  Church ! 
Set  but  a  foot  within  that  holy  ground, 
And  on  thy  head — yea,  tho  it  wore  a  crown — 
I  launch  the  curse  of  Rome ! 
"EicMieu."  EDWARD  BULWER-LYTTON. 


94  HOW  TO  SPEAK  IN  PUBLIC 

6.  I  impeach  Warren  Hastings,  Esquire,  of  high  crimes  and 
misdemeanors. 

I  impeach  him  in  the  name  of  the  Commons  of  Great  Britain, 
in  Parliament  assembled,  whose  parliamentary  trust  he  has 
betrayed. 

I  impeach  him  in  the  name  of  all  the  Commons  of  Great  Britain, 
whose  national  character  he  has  dishonored. 

I  impeach  him  in  the  name  of  the  people  of  India,  whose  laws, 
rights,  and  liberties  he  has  subverted,  whose  property  he  has 
destroyed,  whose  country  he  has  laid  waste  and  desolate. 

I  impeach  him  in  the  name,  and  by  virtue,  of  those  eternal 
laws  of  justice  which  he  has  violated. 

I  impeach  him  in  the  name  of  human  nature  itself,  which  he 
has  cruelly  outraged,  injured,  and  oppressed,  in  both  sexes,  in 
every  age,  rank,  situation  and  condition  of  life. 

"Impeachment  of  Warren  Hastings."  EDMUND  BURKE. 


7.   Look  to  your  hearths,  my  lords! 

For  there,  henceforth,  shall  sit,  for  household  gods, 
Shapes  hot  from  Tartarus;  all  shames  and  crimes; 
Wan  Treachery,  with  his  thirsty  dagger  drawn; 
Suspicion,  poisoning  his  brother's  cup ; 
Naked  Rebellion,  with  the  torch  and  axe, 
Making  his  wild  sport  of  your  blazing  thrones ; 
Till  Anarchy  comes  down  on  you  like  night, 
And  massacre  seals  Rome's  eternal  grave. 
"Catiline's  Defiance."  GEORGE  CROLY. 


8.    Then  soon  he  rose;  the  prayer  was  strong; 
The  Psalm  was  warrior  David's  song; 
The  text,  a  few  short  words  of  might — - 
"The  Lord  of  hosts  shall  arm  the  right!" 
He  spoke  of  wrongs  too  long  endured, 
Of  sacred  rights  to  be  secured; 
Then  from  his  patriot  tongue  of  flame 
The  startling  words  for  Freedom  came. 


MODULATION  95 

The  stirring  sentences  he  spake 
Compelled  the  heart  to  glow  or  quake, 
And,  rising  on  the  theme's  broad  wing, 
And  grasping  in  his  nervous  hand 
The  imaginary  battle-brand, 
In  face  of  death  he  dared  to  fling 
Defiance  to  a  tyrant  king. 
"The  Revolutionary  Rising."  THOMAS  BUCHANAN  READ. 

9.   King  Henry.  What's  he,  that  wishes  so  ? 

My  cousin  Westmoreland? — No,  my  fair  cousin: 
If  we  are  marked  to  die,  we  are  enough 
To  do  our  country  loss ;  and  if  to  live, 
The  fewer  men  the  greater  share  of  honor. 
God's  will !    I  pray  thee,  wish  not  one  man  more. 
By  Jove,  I  am  not  covetous  for  gold ; 
Nor  care  I  who  doth  feed  upon  my  cost  \ 
It  yearns  me  not  if  men  my  garments  wear; 
Such  outward  things  dwell  not  in  my  desires; 
But  if  it  be  a  sin  to  covet  honor 
I  am  the  most  offending  soul  alive. 
No,  'faith,  my  coz,  wish  not  a  man  from  England : 
God's  peace !    I  would  not  lose  so  great  an  honor, 
As  one  man  more,  methinks,  would  share  from  me, 
For  the  best  hope  I  have.    0,  do  not  wish  one  more. 
Rather  proclaim  it,  Westmoreland,  through  my  host, 
That  he  which  hath  no  stomach  to  this  fight, 
Let  him  depart;  his  passport  shall  be  made, 
And  crowns  for  convoy  put  into  his  purse : 
We  would  not  die  in  that  man's  company 
That  fears  his  fellowship  to  die  with  us. 
This  day  is  called — the  feast  of  Crispian: 
He  that  outlives  this  day,  and  comes  safe  home, 
Will  stand  a  tiptoe  when  this  day  is  nam'd, 
And  rouse  him  at  the  name  of  Crispian. 
He  that  shall  live  this  day,  and  see  old  age, 
Will  yearly  on  the  vigil  feast  his  neighbors, 
And  say, — "To-morrow  is  Saint  Crispian": 


96  HOW  TO  SPEAK  IN  PUBLIC 

Then  will  he  strip  his  sleeve,  and  show  his  scars, 
And  say,  "These  wounds  I  had  on  Crispian's  day." 
Old  men  forget ;  yet  all  shall  be  forgot, 
But  he'll  remember,  with  advantages, 
What  feats  he  did  that  day :  then  shall  our  names, 
Familiar  in  their  mouths  as  household  words, — 
Harry  the  king,  Bedford  and  Exeter, 
Warwick  and  Talbot,  Salisbury  and  Gloster, — 
Be  in  their  flowing  cups  freshly  remember'd: 
This  story  shall  the  good  man  teach  his  son ; 
And  Crispin  Crispian  shall  ne'er  go  by, 
From  this  day  to  the  ending  of  the  world, 
But  we  in  it  shall  be  remember'd : 
We  few,  we  happy  few,  we  band  of  brothers; 
For  he  to-day  that  sheds  his  blood  with  me 
Shall  be  my  brother;  be  he  ne'er  so  vile, 
This  day  shall  gentle  his  condition : 
And  gentlemen  in  England,  now  a-bed, 
Shall  think  themselves  accurs'd  they  were  not  here ; 
And  hold  their  manhoods  cheap,  whiles  any  speaks 
That  fought  with  us  upon  SAINT  CRISPIN'S  DAY. 
"Henry  V."  SHAKESPEARE. 


IMITATIVE   MODULATION 

The  melody  or  sounds  of  words  frequently  express  their 
meaning,  and  this  correspondence  between  sound  and  sense 
can  be  made  an  effective  element  in  speech.  Good  taste 
and  a  musical  ear  will  best  guide  the  speaker. 

1.    With  sturdy  steps  came  stalking  on  his  sight 

A  hideous  giant,  horrible  and  high. 
(<F  aerie  Queene."  SPENSER. 

2 There  crept 

A  little  noiseless  noise  among  the  leaves, 
Born  of  the  very  sigh  that  silence  heaves. 


MODULATION  97 

3.   And  her  step  was  light  and  airy 
As  the  tripping  of  a  fairy ; 
When  she  spoke,  you  thought,  each  minute, 
'Twas  the  trilling  of  a  linnet; 
When  she  sang,  you  heard  a  gush 
Of  full-voiced  sweetness  like  a  thrush. 
"The  Spanish  Duel"  J.  F.  WALLER. 


4.  Hear  the  sledges  with  the  bells,  silver  bells, — 

What  a  world  of  merriment  their  melody  foretells! 

How  they  tinkle,  tinkle,  tinkle  in  the  icy  air  of  night, 

While  the  stars  that  oversprinkle  all  the  heavens  seem  to  twinkle 

With  a  crystalline  delight. 

"The  Bells."  FOE. 


5.    0  hark,  0  hear !  how  thin  and  clear, 

And  thinner,  clearer,  farther  going; 
0  sweet  and  far,  from  cliff  and  scar, 

The  horns  of  Elf  land  faintly  blowing ! 
Blow,  let  us  hear  the  purple  glens  replying : 
Blow,  bugle ;  answer,  echoes,  dying,  dying,  dying. 
'Bugle  Song."  TENNYSON. 


6.   With  klingle,  klangle,  klingle, 

Way  down  the  dusty  dingle, 

The  cows  are  coming  home; 
Now  sweet  and  clear,  and  faint  and  low, 
The  airy  tinklings  come  and  go, 
Like  chiming  from  some  far-off  tower, 
Or  patterings  of  an  April  shower 
That  makes  the  daisies  grow — 

Ko-kling,  ko-klang,  koklinglelingle, 

Way  down  the  darkening  dingle 

The  cows  come  slowly  home. 
"When  the  Cows  Come  Home."  AGNES  E.  MITCHELL. 


98  HOW  TO  SPEAK  IN  PUBLIC 

7.    The  Cataract  strong  then  plunges  along, 
Striking  and  raging,  as  if  a  war  waging 
Its  caverns  and  rocks  among ;  rising  and  leaping, 
Sinking  and  creeping,  swelling  and  sweeping, 
Showering  and  springing,  flying  and  flinging, 
Writhing  and  ringing,  eddying  and  whisking, 
Spouting  and  frisking,  turning  and  twisting, 
Around  and  around  with  endless  rebound ! 
"The  Cataract  of  Lodore."  ROBERT  SOUTHEY. 


CHAPTER   VII 

GESTURE 

Gesture,  embracing  movements  of  the  he.ad,  body,  arms, 
hands,  legs  and  feet,  is  a  natural  and  necessary  part  of  ex- 
pression. ~~~The  student  should  study  for  grace,  flexibility, 
appropriateness,  variety  and  spontaneity.  It  will  be  profit- 
able to  carefully  observe  the  expression  of  various  classes 
of  people,  paintings  and  sculpture.  Practise  daily  before 
a  looking-glass. 

The  head  should  be  well-poised  and  not  held  on  one  side 
as  if  scrutinizing  an  audience.  When  held  erect  it  denotes 
a  normal  attitude,  courage,  joy,  pride,  or  authority;  when 
upward  it  indicates  hope  or  prayer ;  when  downward,  shame, 
modesty,  or  reflection;  when  forward,  appeal,  listening, 
sympathy  or  anticipation;  when  backward,  surprise,  terror 
or  independence;  when  shaking,  denial,  discontent,  or  em- 
phasis. Frequent  and  meaningless  movements  should  be 
studiously  avoided.  In  bowing,  incline  the  head  and  upper 
body  together,  so  as  to  bring  the  bend  from  the  waist.  It 
should  be  done  slowly  and  pleasantly,  with  the  eyes  looking 
down. 

The  face  should  be  trained  to  promptly  and  truthfully 
reflect  the  emotions  of  the  speaker.  Quintilian  says :  ' '  The 
face  is  the  dominant  power  of  expression.  With  this  we 
supplicate ;  with  this  we  threaten ;  with  this  we  soothe ;  with 
this  we  mourn ;  with  this  we  rejoice ;  with  this  we  triumph ; 

99 


100  HOW  TO  SPEAK  IN  PUBLIC 

with  this  we  make  our  submissions ;  upon  this  the  audience 
hang;  upon  this  they  keep  their  eyes  fixed;  this  they  ex- 
amine and  study  even  before  a  word  is  spoken." 

The  eyes  are  wide  open  in  joy,  fear  and  surprise ;  closed 
in  faintness,  half -closed  in  hate  and  scrutiny;  raised  in 
prayer  and  supplication;  drooped  in  modesty  and  venera- 
tion ;  look  askance  in  envy,  jealousy,  and  appreciation. 

The  nostrils  are  extended  in  fear  and  indignation,  and 
elevated  in  scorn. 

The  lips  are  closed  in  repose;  partly  open  in  surprise 
and  wonder ;  wide  open  in  terror ;  turn  upward  in  pleasure, 
courtesy  and  good  humor;  turn  downward  in  grief  and 
sorrow ;  pout  in  discontent ;  and  compress  in  anger,  defiance 
and  determination. 

The  body  should  move  in  harmony  with  the  other  mem- 
bers as  required  by  the  thought.  In  turning  from  side  to 
side  the  movement  should  be  from  the  waist  and  not  from 
the  neck. 

The  arms  move  from  the  shoulder,  excepting  in  con- 
versational gesture.  They  should  rest  at  the  sides  without 
crooking  the  elbows.  Movements  may  be  slow  and  gentle, 
slow  and  intense,  swift  and  light,  or  swift  and  strong.  The 
size,  length,  and  velocity  of  a  gesture  depend  upon  the 
thought.  The  lines  are  usually  in  curves,  expressing  grace, 
while  straight  lines  are  used  when  special  emphasis  is  re- 
quired. The  general  purpose  of  gesture  is  to  locate,  illus- 
trate, generalize  or  emphasize. 

The  hands  should  be  carefully  trained  for  flexibility  and 
expressiveness.  The  fingers  should  be  slightly  apart  and 
curved.  A  gesture  has  three  divisions:  1.  The  prepara- 
tion, made  in  an  opposite  direction  from  that  which  the 
gesture  is  to  take.  2.  The  gesture  proper,  which  must  be 


GESTURE  101 

precisely  upon  the  word  intended.  3.  The  return,  in  which 
the  hand  should  be  dropped  gently  and  slowly  without 
slapping  the  sides  of  the  body. 

The  supine  hand,  palm  upward,  is  used  to  express  good- 
humor,  frankness  and  generalization. 

The  prone  hand,  palm  downward,  shows  superposition, 
or  the  resting  of  one  thing  upon  another. 

The  vertical  hand,  palm  outward,  is  used  in  warding  off, 
putting  from,  and  in  repugnant  and  disagreeable  thought. 

The  clenched  hand  is  used  in  anger,  defiance  and  great 
emphasis. 

The  index  finger  is  used  to  specialize  and  indicate. 

Both  hands  are  used  in  appeal  and  to  express  intensity, 
expansiveness  and  greatness.  Usually  one  hand  should 
slightly  lead  the  other.  The  hands  are  clasped  in  prayer 
and  wrung  in  grief. 

The  feet.  The  standing  position  should  be  easy,  the  feet 
at  an  angle  of  forty-five  degrees,  one  foot  in  advance  of 
the  other,  the  width  of  the  base  depending  upon  the  height 
of  the  speaker.  The  knees  should  be  straight,  shoulders 
even  and  chin  level.  Avoid  rising  on  the  toes  and  too  fre- 
quent change  of  foot  position.  The  most  graceful  effect 
is  secured  when  the  left  foot  is  forward  and  the  gesture 
made  with  the  right  hand,  or  vice  versa.  This  combination 
gives  balance,  tho  it  is  not  always  possible  to  use  it. 
The  change  of  foot  position  will  not  be  so  noticeable  if  done 
in  the  act  of  making  a  gesture. 

The  position  may  be  Active  or  Passive.  Passive  position 
is  that  of  normal  discourse.  Active  position  may  be  Ad- 
vanced or  Retired.  The  Advanced  is  used  in  great  earnest- 
ness, excitement,  intensity,  or  courageousness. 


102  HOW  TO  SPEAK  IN  PUBLIC 

EXAMPLES 

1.    Freedom  calls  you !  quick,  be  ready. 

Think  of  what  your  sires  have  done; 
Onward,  onward !  strong  and  steady, — 
Drive  the  tyrant  to  his  den; 

On,  and  let  the  watchword  be, 
Country,  home,  and  liberty. 
"Polish  War  Song."  JAMES  G.  PERCIVAL. 


2.  Therefore,  I  pray  and  exhort  you  not  to  reject  this  measure. 
By  all  you  hold  most  dear,  by  all  the  ties  that  bind  every  one  of 
us  to  our  common  order  and  our  common  country,  I  solemnly  ad- 
jure you,  I  warn  you,  I  implore  you, — yea  on  my  bended  knees 
I  supplicate  you, — reject  not  this  bill! 

LORD  BROUGHAM. 


The  Retired  is  used  in  fear,  defiance,  horror  and  indig- 
nation. 

1.    Thy  threats,  thy  mercies  I  defy, 
And  give  thee  in  the  teeth  the  lie ! 


2.  My  lords,  I  cannot  repress  my  indignation.  I  feel  myself 
impelled  to  speak.  My  lords,  we  are  called  upon  as  members  of 
this  House,  as  men,  as  Christians,  to  protest  against  such  horrible 
barbarity ! — That  God  and  nature  have  put  into  our  hands !  What 
ideas  of  God  and  nature  that  noble  lord  may  entertain,  I  know 
not;  but  I  know  that  such  detestable  principles  are  equally  ab- 
horrent to  religion  and  humanity.  EARL  OF  CHATHAM. 


For  Repose  practise  a  strong  dramatic  passage  without 
making  any  visible  movements. 


GESTURE  103 

SUGGESTIONS 

Don't  make  too  many  gestures  with  the  same  hand. 

Don't  lean. 

If  possible,  avoid  using  handkerchief. 

Don't  button  and  unbutton  your  coat. 

Avoid  artificiality,  affectation,  familiarity  and  crudeness. 

Too  few  gestures  are  better  than  too  many. 

Don't  shrug  the  shoulders. 

Seldom  apologize. 

Look  your  audience  in  the  eyes. 

When  possible,  one  gesture  should  glide  into  the  next. 

Use  only  that  member  of  the  body  actually  required. 

The  hands  should  not  be  held  behind  the  back  for  any 
length  of  time,  nor  be  clasped  in  front,  nor  should  they 
fumble,  twitch  or  play  with  each  other,  rest  on  the  watch 
chain  or  in  the  buttonhole,  and  should  never  be  kept  in  the 
pockets  while  one  is  before  an  audience. 


Practise  the  outline  above,  first  with  each  hand  sepa- 
rately, then  with  both  hands.  The  movement  should  begin 
at  the  wrist,  gradually  extend  to  the  elbow,  ending  with  a 
broad  sweeping  movement  from  the  shoulder.  The  aim 
should  be  to  make  the  circles  alike  in  size  and  curve. 

There  are  three  Zones  in  which  gestures  are  made:  The 
Upper,  Middle  and  Lower.  To  the  first,  located  about  the 
head  and  above  it,  belong  such  thoughts  as  are  joyous, 


104  HOW  TO  SPEAK  IN  PUBLIC 

highly  intellectual,  spiritual,  imaginative  and  exalted;  to 
the  second,  at  the  middle  of  the  body,  belong  the  unemo- 
tional, narrative,  didactic  and  conversational;  and  to  the 
third,  below  the  middle  of  the  body,  belong  such  thoughts 
as  are  emphatic,  determined  and  forceful. 

There  are  four  principal  directions  in  which  gestures 
move :  Front,  Oblique,  Side  and  Back.  The  front  position 
denotes  future,  propinquity,  and  objects  of  direct  address; 
the  oblique  position  is  used  for  general  and  indefinite  state- 
ments ;  the  side  for  distance  and  breadth ;  the  back  for  that 
which  is  remote,  past  or  hidden. 

In  the  following  exercises,  nine  examples  are  arranged 
under  each  heading.  The  first  three  are  to  be  made  to  the 
front  of  the  speaker,  the  next  three  in  an  oblique  direction, 
and  the  last  three  to  the  side.  The  gesture  should  be  given 
precisely  on  the  first  word  in  italics. 

EXAMPLES  OF  GESTURE 
ONE  HAND  SUPINE— MIDDLE  ZONE 

1.  Do  you  confess  the  bond? 

2.  What  trade  art  thou? 

3.  That  is  your  exclusive  province  to  determine. 

4.  Character  is  better  than  reputation. 

5.  My  early  life  ran  quiet  as  the  brooks  by  which  I  sported. 

6.  Truth,  honor,  justice  were  his  motives. 

7.  I  must  fly,  but  follow  quick. 

8.  The  father  saw, — and  his  fury  fled. 

9.  Whatever  impedes  his  progress  shall  be  removed. 

BOTH  HANDS  SUPINE— MIDDLE  ZONE 

1.  Forward!  through  blood  and  toil,  and  cloud  and  fire! 

2.  I  appeal  to  you  by  the  unity  of  our  race. 

3.  Do  you  not  knoiv  me? 

4.  Romans,  countrymen  and  lovers ! 


GESTURE  105 

5.  I  hold  my  hands  to  you  to  show  they  still  are  free! 

6.  Now  let  there  be  the  merry  sound  of  music  and  the  dance! 

7.  Farewell,  a  long  farewell  to  all  my  greatness. 

8.  Proclaim  the  tidings  to  all  people. 

9.  On  a  sudden  open  fly  the  infernal  gates. 

ONE  HAND  SUPINE— ASCENDING 

1.  The  star  of  hope  lures  on. 

2.  Aspire  to  the  highest  and  noblest  attainments. 

3.  Yon  gentle  hills,  robed  in  a  garment  of  untrodden  snow. 

4.  Up  with  your  ladders !    Quick !   'tis  but  a  chance ! 

5.  Soft  is  the  strain  when  Zephyr  gently  blows. 

6.  Fix  your  eye  upon  excellence. 

7.  Away,  oh  away,  soars  the  fearless  and  free. 

8.  Heaving  higher  and  higher  their  accordant  notes. 

9.  Takes  shape  like  bubble  tossing  in  the  wind. 

BOTH  HANDS  SUPINE— ASCENDING 

1.  Now  glory  to  the  Lord  of  Hosts,  from  whom  all  glories  are ! 

2.  Give  your  children  food,  0  Father! 

3.  Hear  my  last  prayer! — I  ask  no  mortal  wreath. 

4.  Ye  crags  and  peaks,  I'm  with  you  once  again. 

5.  The  sun  bursts  through  the  battle-smoke. 

6.  Too  low  they  build  who  build  beneath  the  stars. 

7.  Rouse,  ye  Romans!  rouse  ye  slaves! 

8.  All  the  vaulted  arches  rang  with  music. 

9.  Joy,  joy  forever!  my  task  is  done ! 

ONE  HAND  SUPINE— DESCENDING 

1.  I  protest  against  such  a  measure. 

2.  I  cast  in  the  whirlpool  a  goblet  of  gold. 

3.  Great  men,  too,  lie  where  they  fall. 

4.  Thus  conscience  does  make  cowards  of  us  all. 

5.  The  first  test  of  a  truly  great  man  is  his  humility. 

6.  I  ne'er  will  ask  for  quarter,  and  I  ne'er  will  be  your  slave! 

7.  Oh  judgment,  thou  art  fled  to  brutish  beasts. 

8.  He  has  become  too  vile  for  association. 

9.  Who  steals  my  purse,  steals  trash. 


106  HOW  TO  SPEAK  IN  PUBLIC 

BOTH  HANDS  SUPINE— DESCENDING 

1.  Here  I  devote  your  senate. 

2.  I  come  to  bury  Caesar,  not  to  praise  him. 

3.  iJown,  down  into  the  fathomless  sea. 

4.  The  huge  pile  sank  down  at  once  into  the  opening  earth. 

5.  We  have  no  concessions  to  make,  my  lord. 

6.  Here  will  we  sit  down  and  let  the  sound  of  music  creep  in 
our  ears. 

•  7.    Gentlemen  may  cry  "Peace!  Peace!"  but  there  is  no  peace! 

8.  Nature  hears  the  shock  and  hurls  her  fabric  to  the  dust. 

9.  Be  ready,  Gods!    With  all  your  thunderbolts    dash  him  to 


pieces ! 


ONE  HAND  PRONE— MIDDLE  ZONE 


1.  Blaze,  with  your  serried  columns !    I  will  not  bend  the  knee. 

2.  Once  more  unto  the  breach,  dear  friends,  once  more! 

3.  Strode  on  and  thundered  at  the  palace  gate. 

4.  Go,  get  thee  from  me,  Cromwell. 

5.  I  charge  you  all,  restrain  such  propensities. 

6.  On  stream  and  wood  the  moonbeams  rest. 

7.  Along  the  silent  room  he  stalks. 

8.  If  ye  are  men,  follow  me! 

9.  "Traitor"  I  go;  but  I  return. 

BOTH  HANDS  PRONE— MIDDLE  ZONE 

1.  Lie  lightly  on  him  earth. 

2.  That  his  bones  may  have  a  tomb  of  orphans'  tears  wept 
on  'em! 

3.  With  our  hands  upon  the  altar,  we  swear  eternal  fealty. 

4.  I'll  swim  the  sea  of  slaughter  till  I  sink  beneath  the  wave ! 

5.  Look  down  on  what?    A  fathomless  abyss. 

6.  One  dead  silence  reigned  o'er  the  spot. 

7.  Round  me  the  smoke  and  shout  of  battle  roll! 

8.  Deep  stillness  fell  upon  them  all. 

9.  Spread  wild  destruction  everywhere. 


GESTURE  107 

ONE  HAND  PRONE— ASCENDING 

1.  Ye  gods,  withold  your  vengeance. 

2.  Justice  cries:  Forbear! 

3.  Boys  flying  kites  haul  in  their  white-wing'd  birds. 

4.  Stay!  Speak,  speak,  I  charge  thee,  speak! 

5.  They  little  knew  the  danger  impending  o'er  their  city. 

6.  The  flames  went  leaping  higher,  higher,  higher! 

7.  Away,  delusive  phantom. 

8.  As  some  tall  cliff  that  lifts  its  awful  form. 

9.  A  midnight  gloom  reigned  over  the  farthest  height. 

BOTH  HANDS  PRONE— ASCENDING 

1.  Crown  his  temples  with  the  silver  locks  of  seventy  years. 

2.  Sink,  0  Night,  among  the  mountains. 

3.  Bless  the  Lord,  0  my  soul. 

4.  Now  stretches  forth  her  leaden  sceptre  o'er  a  slumbering 
world. 

5.  Hung  be  the  heavens  with  black. 

6.  And  you,  ye  storms,  howl  out  his  greatness. 

7.  Rise!  rise!  ye  wild  tempests  and  cover  his  flight! 

8.  Around  him  rose  the  bare  discolored  walls. 

9.  They  cried  aloud:  "Huzza!  we  are  saved!" 

ONE  HAND  PRONE— DESCENDING 

1.  To  thy  knees  and  beg  for  pardon. 

2.  Pray  you  tread  softly. 

3.  Maintaining  she  was  false  to  him. 

4.  And  he  fell  upon  their  decks  and  he  died. 

5.  He  shall  be  likened  unto  a  foolish  man  who  built  his  house 
upon  the  sand. 

6.  Thou,  coward,  crawl  like  a  worm. 
1.    Away  with  such  follies! 

8.  Thou  art  too  base  for  man  to  tread  upon. 

9.  It  is  a  great  temptation,  but  push  it  aside! 


108  HOW  TO  SPEAK  IN  PUBLIC 

BOTH  HANDS  PRONE— DESCENDING 

1.  Down,  down,  down  to  death! 

2.  We  are  in  Thy  sight,  worms  of  the  dust. 

3.  I  saw  the  bleeding  body  of  my  father  flung  amid  the  blazing 
rafters  of  our  dwelling. 

4.  He  shall  go  down  to  the  vile  dust,  from  whence  he  sprung. 

5.  They  shall  be  blotted  out  from  the  records  of  Freedom. 

6.  Sons  of  dust,  in  reverence  bow! 

7.  Till  pride  and  worse  ambition  threw  me  down! 

8.  The  people  will  sweep  you  from  your  places  with  their 
indignation. 

9.  I  disown  them  all! 


ONE  HAND  VERTICAL— MIDDLE  ZONE 

1.  Pause,  pause!  in  heaven's  name,  pause! 

2.  Do  not  presume  too  much  upon  my  love ! 

3.  All  that  I  ask  is  simply  fair  play! 

4.  He  groped  towards  the  door,  but  it  was  locked ! 

5.  Now  for  the  fight! 

6.  Be  that  word  our  sign  of  parting! 

7.  Away  with  an  idea  so  absurd. 

8.  Begone!  we  will  not  look  upon  you  more. 

9.  His  arm  warded  off  the  blow. 


BOTH  HANDS  VERTICAL— MIDDLE  ZONE 

1.  Gone  to  be  married !    Gone  to  swear  a  peace ! 

2.  With  united  hearts  let  us  drive  back  the  invaders. 

3.  She  stood  as  if  paralyzed  with  fear! 

4.  Here  I  fling  hatred  and  full  defiance  in  your  face! 

5.  Their  separation  was  final. 

6.  Back,  back  to  thy  punishment ! 

7.  Avaunt,  and  quit  my  sight! 

8.  The  gates  of  death  in  sunder  break. 

9.  Put  away  such  idle  dreams ! 


GESTURE  109 

ONE  HAND  VERTICAL— ASCENDING 

1.  We  pray  Thee,  turn  away  Thy  displeasure. 

2.  Oh,  forbid  it,  Heaven ! 

3.  An  appeal  to  arms,  and  to  the  God  of  Hosts  is  all  that  is 
left  us ! 

4.  And  he  said:  "Fight  on!    Fight  on!" 

5.  Sir,  before  God,  I  believe  the  hour  is  come. 

6.  The  wild  cataract  leaps  in  glory. 

7.  Blow  on!    This  is  the  land  of  Liberty ! 

8.  Get  thee  back  into  the  tempest  and  the  night's  Plutonian 
shore ! 

9.  Unreal  mockery,  hence! 

BOTH  HANDS  VERTICAL— ASCENDING 

1.  Advance,  then,  ye  future  generations! 

2.  0  ye  loud  waves!  and  0  ye  forests  high! 

3.  Avert,  0  God,  the  awful  calamity! 

4.  Angels  and  ministers  of  grace,  defend  us ! 

5.  0  horror,  horror,  horror! 

6.  And  the  battle-thunder  broke  from  them  all! 

7.  Ye  lightnings,  the  dread  arrows  of  the  clouds. 

8.  Burst  are  the  prison  bars. 

9.  Victory!  Victory!  Victory!  is  the  shout! 

MISCELLANEOUS  EXERCISES 

1.  I  defy  him !  let  him  come ! 

2.  For  Heaven's  sake,  Hubert,  let  me  not  be  bound! 

3.  By  this  time  to-morrow  thou  shalt  have  France,  or  I,  thy 
head! 

4.  My  happy  heart  with  rapture  swells. 

5.  Sail  forth  into  the  sea,  0  ship! 

6.  Ah !  distinctly  I  remember,  it  was  in  the  bleak  December, 
And  each  separate  dying  ember  wrought  its  ghost  upon  the 

floor. 

7.  I  see  the  silent  ocean  of  the  past. 

8.  Hurrah!  hurrah!  a  single  field  hath  turned  the  chance  of  war, 
Hurrah !  hurrah !  for  Ivry  and  King  Henry  of  Navarre ! 


HO  HOW  TO  SPEAK  IN  PUBLIC 

9.    King  Robert  crossed  both  hands  upon  his  breast 
And  meekly  answered  him:    "Thou  knowest  best." 

10.  I  feel  to-day,  as  if  I  would  give  all,  provided  I  through 
fifty  years  might  reach  and  kill  and  bury  that  half-minute  speech. 

11.  I  care  not  how  high  his  station,  how  low  his  character,  how 
contemptible  his  speech;  whether  a  privy  councillor  or  a  parasite, 
— my  answer  would  be  a  blow! 

12.  Read  this  declaration  at  the  head  of  the  army, — every  sword 
will  be  drawn  from  its  scabbard,  and  the  solemn  vow  uttered  to 
maintain  it,  or  to  perish  on  the  bed  of  honor ! 

13.  When  a  wind  from  the  lands  they  had  ruin'd  awoke  from 

sleep, 

And  the  water  began  to  heave  and  the  weather  to  moan, 
And  or  ever  that  evening  ended  a  great  gale  blew, 
And  a  wave  like  the  wave  that  is  raised  by  an  earthquake 

grew, 
Till  it  smote  on  their  hulls  and  their  sails  and  their  masts 

and  their  flags, 
And  the  whole  sea  plunged  and  fell  on  the  shot-shatter'd 

navy  of  Spain, 
And  the  little  Revenge  herself  went  down  by  the  island 

crags, 
To  be  lost  evermore  in  the  main. 

14.  I   am,   sir,   sensible — I   am,   indeed, — that,   tho — I   should 
— want — words — I  must  proceed;  and,  for  the  first  time  in  my 
life,   I  think — I  think — that — no  great  orator  should  shrink; — 
and,  therefore,  Mr.  Speaker,  I  for  one — will  speak  out  freely. 
Sir, — I've  not  yet  done.    Sir,  in  the  name  of  those  enlightened 
men  who  sent  me  here  to — speak  for  them — why  then,  to  do  my 
duty — as  I  said  before — to  my  constituency — I'll  say  no  more. 

15.  Yet  out  of  this  mixed,  and,  as  you  say,  despicable  mass, 
he  forged  a  thunderbolt,  and  hurled  it  at  what? 


PART   II 
MENTAL    ASPECTS 


CHAPTER   VIII 
PAUSING 

The  intelligent  use  of  pausing  contributes  very  materially 
to  artistic  and  effective  speech.  It  discloses  a  speaker's 
method  of  'thinking,  and  its  possibilities  are  almost  as  varied 
as  thought  itself.  Eapid  utterance,  unless  employed  specif- 
ically to  portray  hasty  action,  is  usually  a  sign  of  shallow- 
ness.  The  speaker  fails  to  weigh  or  measure  his  thought, 
and  skims  over  its  surface  in  undue  anxiety  to  express  what 
is  in  his  mind.  The  school-boy  " speaking  his  piece"  on 
Friday  afternoon  furnishes  a  good  illustration  of  meaning- 
less declamation.  He  rushes  through  his  lines  with  breath- 
less haste,  oftentimes  gabbling  the  last  few  words  while 
resuming  his  seat. 

Correct  jpausing  is  the  result  of  clear  thinking.  As  a 
usual  thing  long  pauses  indicate  importance  and  depth  of 
thought.  Its  basis  is  that  used  by  a  good  speaker  in  con- 
versation. In  the  discussion  or  expression  of  the  weighty 
and  important  truths  of  a  regular  discourse,  a  trained 
speaker  will  generally  use  a  slower  movement  and  appro- 
priately longer  pauses.  Grammatical  punctuation  shows 
the  construction,  but  is  not  always  an  accurate  guide  for 
the  speaker  or  reader.  There  are  numerous  shades  of  paus- 
ing, from  the  slightest  spiritual  separation  of  words  to  very 
long  intervals  of  time.  These  must  be  determined  by  the 
thought,  the  occasion,  and  the  speaker's  intelligence.  Nor 
is  a  pause  merely  *  *  an  interval  of  time. ' '  A  speaker  is  here 
occupied  as  fully  as  when  actually  expressing  words.  His 

113 


114  HOW  TO  SPEAK  IN  PUBLIC 

mind  is  employed  in  seeking,  picturing,  and  weighing  the 
ensuing  thought.  His  audience  will  follow  his  mental  proc- 
ess and  share  with  him  his  search  for  words,  pictures,  and 
lines  of  reasoning.  It  is  said  of  Webster  that  upon  one 
occasion,  in  a  public  address,  the  word  he  wanted  did  not 
readily  come.  He  discarded  one  after  another,  until  finally 
he  found  the  word  that  precisely  expressed  his  meaning, 
wrhereupon  .the  audience  broke  out  into  spontaneous  ap- 
plause. 

Nowhere  is  the  "eloquence  of  ^ilence"  more  manifest 
than  in  this  matter  of  pausing.  Frequently  it  is  during 
these  intervals  that  speaker  and  auditor  are  drawn  to- 
gether into  closest  relationship,  and  what  is  termed  "per- 
sonal magnetism"  is  most  deeply  felt. 

Pausing  is  a  physiological  and  psychological  manifesta- 
tion of  the  principle  of  action  and  reaction  that  underlies 
all  vocal  expression.  Time  must  be  provided  in  which  to 
replenish  the  lungs.  The  listening  ear  demands  relief  from 
an  otherwise  incessant  flow  of  sound.  Clearness  insists 
upon  proper  divisions  of  thought.  Pausing  gives  addi- 
tional interest  by  keeping  the  hearer  in  a  state  of  expect- 
ancy. It  is  particularly  valuable  in  expressing  emphasis, 
spontaneity,  and  deep  feeling.  In  short,  it  gives  justness, 
freshness,  clearness,  andpoise  to  spoken  language. 

The  following  rules  should  be  thoroughly  understood  be- 
fore proceeding  to  the  examples  for  analysis : 

RULES  FOR  PAUSING1 
Pause  after: 

1.  The  nominative  phrase. 

2.  The  objective  phrase  in  an  inverted  sentence. 

i  J.  E.  Frobisher,  Voice  and  Action,  p.  102. 


PAUSING  •          115 

3.  The  emphatic  word  or  clause  of  force. 

4.  Each  member  of  a  sentence. 

5.  The  noun  when  followed  by  an  adjective. 

6.  Words  in  apposition. 
Pause  before: 

7.  The  infinitive  mood. 

8.  Prepositions  (generally). 

9.  Eelative  pronouns. 

10.  Conjunctions. 

11.  Adverbs  (generally). 

12.  An  ellipsis. 

EXAMPLES 

1.  The  passions8  of  mankind1  frequently3  blind  them. 

2.  With  famine10  and  death2  the  destroying  angel  came. 

3.  He  exhibits*  now  and  then*  remarkable  genius. 

4.  He  was  a  man6  contented. 

5.  The  morn8  was  clear,12  the  eve6  was  clouded. 

6.  It  is  prudent8  in  every  man7  to  make  early  provision8  against 
the  wants  of  age10  and  the  chances8  of  accident. 

7.  Nations11  like  men6  fail8  in  nothing9  which  they  boldly  at- 
tempt11 when  sustained8  by  virtuous  purpose10  and  firm  resolution. 

8.  A  people12  once  enslaved1  may  groan12  ages8  in  bondage. 

9.  Their  diadems12  crowns8  of  glory. 
10.    They  cried3  "Death8  to  the  traitors !" 

GENERAL  EXERCISES  IN  PAUSING 

1.    The  night  has  a  thousand  eyes, 

And  the  day  but  one; 
Yet  the  light  of  the  bright  world  dies 
With  the  dying  sun. 

The  mind  has  a  thousand  eyes, 

And  the  heart  but  one; 
Yet  the  light  of  a  whole  life  dies 

When  love  is  done. 
"The  Night  Has  a  Thousand  Eyes."  BOURDILLON. 


116  HOW  TO  SPEAK  IN  PUBLIC 

2.  However  full  days  or  weeks  or  years  have  been  of  annoy- 
ance, unrest,  trouble,  even  sin,  the  miracle  may  be  wrought  in 
any  life  on  any  morning,,  by  which  all  the  unrest,  the  trial,  the 
sorrow  shall  be  lifted,  the  burden  removed,  and  the  soul  caught 
up  to  ineffable  joy  and  life  and  light.  LILIAN  WHITING. 

3.  Religion,  the  greatest  and  most  important  of  the  efforts  by 
which  the  human  race  has  manifested  its  impulse  to  perfect  it- 
self,— religion,  that  voice  of  the  deepest  human  experience, — does 
not  only  enjoin  and  sanction  the  aim  which  is  the  great  aim  of 
culture,  the  aim  of  setting  ourselves  to  ascertain  what  perfection 
is  and  to  make  it  prevail;  but  also,  in  determining  generally  in 
what  human  perfection  consists,  religion  comes  to  a  conclusion 
identical  with  that  which  culture — culture  seeking  the  determina- 
tion of  this  question  through  all  the  voices  of  human  experience 
which  have  been  heard  upon  it,  of  art,  science,  poetry,  philosophy, 
history,  as  well  as  of  religion,  in  order  to  give  a  greater  fulness 
and  certainty  to  its  solution — likewise  reaches.     Religion   says: 
The  kingdom  of  God  is  within  you',  and  culture,  in  like  manner, 
places  human  perfection  in  an  internal  condition,  in  the  growth 
and  predominance  of  our  humanity  proper,  as  distinguished  from 
our  animality. 

"Sweetness  and  Light."  MATTHEW  ARNOLD. 

4.  Mr.  Burke,  who  was  no  friend  to  popular  excitement, — 
who  was  no  ready  tool  of  agitation,  no  hot-headed  enemy  of  ex- 
isting establishments,  no  undervaluer  of  the  wisdom  of  our  an- 
cestors, no  scoffer  against  institutions  as  they  are, — has  said,  and 
it  deserves  to  be  fixed  in  letters  of  gold  over  the  hall  of  every 
assembly  which  calls  itself  a  legislative  body, — "Where  there  is 
abuse,  there  ought  to  be  clamor;  because  it  is  better  to  have  our 
slumber  broken  by  the  fire-bell,  than  to  perish  amid  the  flames 
in  our  bed !" 

5.    Seated  one  day  at  the  Organ, 
I  was  weary  and  ill  at  ease, 
And  my  fingers  wandered  idly 
Over  the  noisy  keys; 


PAUSING  117 

I  know  not  what  I  was  playing, 

Or  what  I  was  dreaming  then; 
But  I  struck  one  chord  of  music, 

Like  the  sound  of  a  great  Amen. 
"A  Lost  Chord."  ADELAIDE  PROCTER. 


6.  The  storm  had  long  given  place  to  a  calm  the  most  profound, 
and  the  evening  was  pretty  far  advanced — indeed  supper  was 
over,  and  the  process  of  digestion  proceeding  as  favorably  as, 
under  the  influence  of  complete  tranquillity,  cheerful  conversation, 
and  a  moderate  allowance  of  brandy  and  water,  most  wise  men 
conversant  with  the  anatomy  and  functions  of  the  human  frame 
will  consider  that  it  ought  to  have  proceeded,  when  the  three 
friends,  or  as  one  might  say,  both  in  a  civil  and  religious  sense, 
and  with  proper  deference  and  regard  to  the  holy  state  of  matri- 
mony, the  two  friends  (Mr.  and  Mrs.  Browdie  counting  as  no 
more  than  one),  were  startled  by  the  noise  of  loud  and  angry 
threatenings  below  stairs,  which  presently  attained  so  high  a 
pitch,  and  were  conveyed  besides  in  language  so  towering,  san- 
guinary and  ferocious,  that  it  could  hardly  have  been  surpassed, 
if  there  had  actually  been  a  Saracen's  head  then  present  in  the 
establishment,  supported  on  the  shoulders  and  surmounting  the 
trunk  of  a  real,  live,  furious,  and  most  unappeasable  Saracen. 

DICKENS. 


7.    Hail  to  thee,  blithe  spirit ! 

Bird  thou  never  wert, 
That  from  heaven,  or  near  it, 

Pourest  thy  full  heart 
In  profuse  strains  of  unpremeditated  art. 


Higher  still  and  higher 

From  the  earth  thou  springest 
Like  a  cloud  of  fire; 

The  blue  deep  thou  wingest, 
And  singing  still  dost  soar,  and  soaring  ever  singest. 


118  HOW  TO  SPEAK  IN  PUBLIC 

In  the  golden  lightning 

Of  the  sunken  sun, 
O'er  which  clouds  are  brightening, 

Thou  dost  float  and  run, 
Like  an  unbodied  joy  whose  race  is  just  begun. 


The  pale  purple  even 

Melts  around  thy  flight; 
Like  a  star  of  heaven 

In  the  broad  daylight 
Thou  art  unseen,  but  yet  I  hear  thy  shrill  delight. 

What  thou  art  we  know  not; 

What  is  most  like  theef 
From  rainbow  clouds  there  flow  not 

Drops  so  bright  to  see, 
As  from  thy  presence  showers  a  rain  of  melody. 

Like  a  poet  hidden 

In  the  light  of  thought, 
Singing  hymns  unbidden, 

Till  the  world  is  wrought 
To  sympathy  with  hopes  and  fears  it  heeded  not. 

Teach  us,  sprite  or  bird, 

What  sweet  thoughts  are  thine: 

I  have  never  heard 

Praise  of  love  or  wine 
That  panted  forth  a  flood  of  rapture  so  divine. 

Chorus  hymeneal, 

Or  triumphal  chant, 
Matched  with  thine  would  be  all 

But  an  empty  vaunt, 
A  thing  wherein  we  feel  there  is  some  hidden  want. 


EMPHASIS  119 

What  object  are  the  fountains 

Of  thy  happy  strain? 
What  fields,  or  waves,  or  mountains? 

What  shapes  of  sky  or  plain? 
What  love  of  thine  own  kind  ?  what  ignorance  of  pain  ? 

We  look  before  and  after, 

And  pine  for  what  is  not : 
Our  sincerest  laughter 

With  some  pain  is  fraught ; 
Our  sweetest  songs  are  those  that  tell  of  saddest  thought. 

Yet  if  we  could  scorn 

Hate,  and  pride,  and  fear; 
If  we  were  things  born 

Not  to  shed  a  tear, 
I  know  not  how  thy  joy  we  ever  should  come  near. 

Better  than  all  measures 

Of  delightful  sound, 
Better  than  all  treasures 

That  in  books  are  found, 

Thy  skill  to  poet  were,  thou  scorner  of  the  ground ! 
"To  a  Skylark."  SHELLEY. 

EMPHASIS 

Emphasis  consists  in  giving  prominence  to  words  or  parts 
of  discourse  so  as  best  to  express  their  meaning.  The  prin- 
cipal means  of  giving  emphasis  are  by  change  of  force, 
inflection,  pitch,  movement,  pause,  and  feeling.  Two  things 
are  essential  to  correct  emphasis :  First,  a  clear  understand- 
ing of  the  thought  to  be  expressed ;  second,  a  thorough  and 
practical  knowledge  of  the  various  modes  of  emphasis. 
These  modes  are  usually  found  in  combination,  but  the  best 
results  will  be  secured  by  practising  them  at  first  separately. 


120  HOW  TO  SPEAK  IN  PUBLIC 

The  speaker  should  thoroughly  understand  thought  "val- 
ues," the  order  of  their  importance  and  their  relation  to 
each  other.  He  should  be  able  to  concentrate  upon  one 
thought  at  a  time.  He  must  carefully  avoid  over-emphasis. 
Too  many  interpreters  of  literature  try  to  read  into  the 
lines  meanings  never  intended  by  the  writers. 

The  form  of  emphasis  most  frequently  used  by  untrained 
speakers  is  that  of  force.  Many  people  who  speak  with 
varied  and  appropriate  emphasis  in  conversation,  change 
to  a  loud  Declamatory  style  when  called  upon  to  address  an 
audience.  They  endeavor. to  drive  their  thought  home  by 
force, — mere  loudness  of  voice,  accompanied  by  violent 
physical  movements.  The  difference  between  conversational 
style  and  that  of  public  speaking  is  illustrated  as  follows: 
A  cabinet  size  photograph,  if  shown  to  a  few  individuals, 
can  be  seen  in  all  its  details.  Hold  the  same  picture  up 
before  an  audience  of  a  hundred  or  more  people,  and  the 
result  is  unsatisfactory.  The  picture,  however,  can  be  en- 
larged so  that  everybody  in  a  large  audience  can  see  it,  and 
if  the  process  of  enlarging  it  is  naturally  and  symmetrically 
done  the  large  picture  will  be  as  true  a  likeness  as  the  small 
one.  If  it  is  otherwise  enlarged,  the  result  may  be  a  car- 
icature. In  like  manner,  the  public  speaker  who  wishes  to 
be  natural  and  effective  should  enlarge  his  conversational 
style  to  fit  the  larger  occasion,  using  all  the  various  modula- 
tions and  modes  of  emphasis  employed  in  addressing  a 
single  individual. 

The  most  intellectual  use  of  emphasis  is  that  of  inflection, 
wherein  graceful  glides  of  the  voice  are  used  to  give  added 
prominence.  This  is  particularly  noticeable  in  the  voices 
of  well-bred  children. 

To  pause  immediately  before  a  word  gives  greater  em- 


EMPHASIS  121 

phasis  than  to  pause  after  it.  The  hearer  is  kept  waiting, 
and  the  mind,  being  in  a  state  of  expectancy,  is  likely  to  be 
more  receptive  and  impressionable.  This  accounts,  in  part, 
for  the  effectiveness  of  a  deliberate  style  over  a  rapid  one. 
The  speaker  appears  to  weigh  his  words,  and  the  hearer  is 
made  to  appreciate  that  which  is  withheld  from  him  even 
for  a  moment.  It  is  said  that  a  person  who  is  thoroughly 
in  earnest  will  emphasize  correctly  and  naturally. 


RULES   FOR   EMPHASIS 

Emphasize  : 

1.  The  leading  idea  of  a  new  thought. 

2.  Important  words. 

3.  Words  used  to  establish  a  comparison. 

4.  Conjunctions  and  introductory  words  making  a  sud 
den  turn  in  the  thought. 

5.  In  emphatic  repetition. 

6.  In  unexpressed  antithesis. . 

7.  Usually  both  words  of  an  antithesis. 

Don't  emphasize: 

1.  Expletives. 

2.  Words  that  simply  carry  the  thought  forward. 

3.  When  false  antithesis  will  be  suggested. 


EXAMPLES    FOR   ANALYSIS    AND    PRACTISE 

1.  To  do  most,  we  must  employ  the  most  we  have  to  do  it  with, 
and  not  set  small  functions  on  great  tasks.  Attempting  the  great 
with  the  great  we  do  the  great;  so  that  one  should  be  all  at  it, 
and  at  it  all,  doing  all  he  can,  and  at  all  he  has  to  do. 

"How  to  Succeed."  AUSTIN  BIERBROWER. 


122  HOW  TO  SPEAK  IN  PUBLIC 

2.  Tho  I  speak  with  the  tongues  of  men  and  of  angels,  and 
have  not  charity,  I  am  become  as  sounding  brass,  or  a  tinkling 
cymbal.  And  tho  I  have  the  gift  of  prophecy,  and  understand 
all  mysteries,  and  all  knowledge;  and  tho  I  have  all  faith,  so 
that  I  could  remove  mountains,  and  have  not  charity,  I  am  nothing. 
And  tho  I  bestow  all  my  goods  to  feed  the  poor,  and  tho  I 
give  my  body  to  be  burned,  and  have  not  charity,  it  profiteth 
me  nothing.  Charity  suffereth  long,  and  is  kind;  charity  envieth 
not;  charity  vaunteth  not  itself,  is  not  puffed  up,  doth  not  behave 
itself  unseemly,  seeketh  not  her  own,  is  not  easily  provoked, 
thinketh  no  evil,  rejoiceth  not  in  iniquity,  but  rejoiceth  in  the 
truth;  beareth  all  things,  believeth  all  things,  hopeth  all  things. 
Charity  never  f  aileth :  but  whether  there  be  prophecies,  they  shall 
fail;  whether  there  be  tongues,  they  shall  cease;  whether  there  be 
knowledge,  it  shall  vanish  away.  For  we  know  in  part,  and  we 
prophesy  in  part.  But  when  that  which  is  perfect  is  come,  then 
that  which  is  in  part  shall  be  done  away.  When  I  was  a  child,  I 
spake  as  a  child,  I  understood  as  a  child,  I  thought  as  a  child; 
but  when  I  became  a  man,  I  put  away  childish  things.  For  now 
we  see  through  a  glass  darkly,  but  then  face  to  face:  now  I  know 
in  part,  but  then  shall  I  know  even  as  also  I  am  known.  And 
now  abideth  faith,  hope,  charity, — these  three;  but  the  greatest 
of  these  is  charity. 

"1  Corinthians,  13."  THE  BIBLE. 

3.    Hope  springs  eternal  in  the  human  breast : 
Man  never  is,  but  always  to  be  blest. 
The  soul,  uneasy  and  confined  from  home, 
Rests  and  expatiates  in  a  life  to  come. 


Lo,  the  poor  Indian !  whose  untutor'd  mind 
Sees  God  in  clouds,  or  hears  Him  in  the  wind ; 
His  soul  proud  Science  never  taught  to  stray 
Far  as  the  solar  walk  or  milky  way. 


EMPHASIS  123 

All  are  but  parts  of  one  stupendous  whole, 
Whose  body  Nature  is,  and  God  the  soul. 


All  nature  is  but  art,  unknown  to  thee ; 

All  chance,  direction,  which  thou  canst  not  see; 

All  discord,  harmony  not  understood; 

All  partial  evil,  universal  good; 

And  spite  of  pride,  in  erring  reason's  spite, 

One  truth  is  clear,  Whatever  is,  is  right. 


Know  then  thyself,  presume  not  God  to  scan; 
The  proper  study  of  mankind  is  man. 


Behold  the  child,  by  Nature's  kindly  law, 
Pleased  with  a  rattle,  tickled  with  a  straw; 
Some  livelier  plaything  gives  his  youth  delight, 
A  little  louder,  but  as  empty  quite ; 
Scarfs,  garters,  gold,  amuse  his  riper  stage, 
And  beads  and  prayer-books  are  the  toys  of  age. 
Pleased  with  this  bauble  still,  as  that  before, 
Till  tired  he  sleeps,  and  life's  poor  play  is  o'er. 
"Essay  on  Man."  ALEXANDER  POPE. 

4.  From  these  walls  a  spirit  shall  go  forth  that  shall  survive, 
when  this  edifice  shall  be  like  an  unsubstantial  pageant  faded. 
It  shall  go  forth,  exulting  in,  but  not  abusing,  its  strength.  It 
shall  go  forth,  remembering,  in  the  days  of  its  prosperity,  the 
pledges  it  gave  in  the  time  of  its  depression.  It  shall  go  forth, 
uniting  a  disposition  to  correct  abuses,  to  redress  grievances.  It 
shall  go  forth,  uniting  the  disposition  to  improve,  with  the  resolu- 
tion to  maintain  and  defend,  by  that  spirit  of  unbought  affection 
which  is  the  chief  defense  of  nations. 


124  HOW  TO  SPEAK  IN  PUBLIC 

What  was  it,  fellow  citizens,  which  gave  to  Lafayette  his  spot- 
less fame?  The  love  of  liberty.  What  has  consecrated  his  mem- 
ory in  the  hearts  of  good  men?  The  love  of  liberty.  What 
nerved  his  youthful  arm  with  strength,  and  inspiied.him,  in  the 
morning  of  his  days,  with  sagacity  and  counsel?  The  living  love 
of  liberty.  To  what  did  he  sacrifice  power,  and  rank,  and  country, 
and  freedom  itself?  To  the  love  of  liberty  protected  by  law.  .  .  . 
Listen,  Americans,  to  the  lesson  which  seems  borne  to  us  on  the 
very  air  we  breathe  while  we  perform  these  dutiful  rites.  Ye 
winds,  that  wafted  the  pilgrims  to  the  land  of  promise,  fan  in 
their  children's  hearts  the  love  of  freedom!  Blood  which  our 
fathers  shed,  cry  from  the  ground — echoing  arches  of  this  re- 
nowned hall,  whisper  back  the  voices  of  other  days — glorious 
Washington !  break  the  long  silence  of  that  votive  canvas ;  speak, 
speak,  marble  lips ;  teach  us  the  love  of  liberty  protected  by  law ! 

"Eulogy  on  Lafayette."  EDWARD  EVERETT. 

5.   A  poor  old  king,  with  sorrow  for  my  crown, 
Throned  upon  straw,  and  mantled  with  the  wind. 
For  pity  my  own  tears  have  made  me  blind, 
That  I  might  never  see  my  children's  frown; 
And  maybe  madness,  like  a  friend,  has  thrown 
A  folded  fillet  over  my  dark  mind, 
So  that  unkindly  speech  may  sound  for  kind : 
Albeit  I  know  not ;  I  am  childish  grown, 
And  have  not  gold  to  purchase  wit  withal. 
I,  that  have  once  maintained  most  royal  state 
A  very  bankrupt  now,  that  may  not  call 
My  child,  my  child !  all  beggared,  save  in  tears 
Wherewith  I  daily  weep  an  old  man's  fate; 
Foolish,  and  blind,  and  overcome  with  years. 
"King  Lear."  HOOD. 

6.    The  quality  of  mercy  is  not  strain 'd ; 

It  droppeth  as  the  gentle  rain  from  heaven 
Upon  the  place  beneath ;  it  is  twice  blest ; 
It  blesseth  him  that  gives,  and  him  that  takes ; 
'Tis  mightiest  in  the  mightiest ;  it  becomes 
The  throned  monarch  better  than  his  crown; 


INFLECTION  125 

His  scepter  shows  the  force  of  temporal  power, 
The  attribute  to  awe  and  majesty, 
Wherein  doth  sit  the  dread  and  fear  of  kings; 
But  mercy  is  above  this  scept'red  sway, 
It  is  enthroned  in  the  hearts  of  kings; 
It  is  an  attribute  to  God  himself ; 
And  earthly  power  doth  then  show  likest  God's 
When  mercy  seasons  justice. 
"The  Merchant  of  Venice."  SHAKESPEARE. 

7.  Any  material  object  which  can  give  us  pleasure  in  the  simple 
contemplation  of  its  outward  qualities  without  any  direct  and 
definite  exertion  of  the  intellect,  I  call  in  some  way,  or  in  some 
degree,  beautiful.     Why  we  receive  pleasure  from  some  forms 
and  colors,  and  not  from  others,  is  no  more  to  be  asked  or  an- 
swered than  why  we  like  sugar  and  dislike  wormwood.    The  utmost 
subtilty  of  investigation  will  only  lead  us  to  ultimate  instincts 
and  principles  of  human  nature,  for  which  no  farther  reason  can 
be  given  than  the  simple  will  of  the  Deity  that  we  should  be  so 
created. 

"Modern  Painters."  RUSKIN. 

8.  If  to  do  were  as  easy  as  to  know  what  were  good  to  do, 
chapels  had  been  churches,  and  poor  men's  cottages  princes'  pal- 
aces.   It  is  a  good  divine  that  follows  his  own  instructions ;  I  can 
easier  teach  twenty  what  were  good  to  be  done  than  to  be  one 
of  the  twenty  to  follow  mine  own  teaching. 

"The  Merchant  of  Venice."  SHAKESPEARE. 

INFLECTION 

Inflection  or  slide  of  the  voice  indicates  the  tendency  or 
direction  of  a  speaker's  mind.  When  the  tendency  is  to 
anticipate,  suspend,  contrast,  or  hold  the  thought  open,  the 
voice  naturally  -takes  a  rising  inflection.  When  the  tendency 
is  to  emphasize  or  complete  a  thought,  the  voice  takes  a 
falling  inflection.  The  possession  of  "a  musical  ear."  is  of 


126  HOW  TO  SPEAK  IN  PUBLIC 

decided  advantage  in  producing  correct  inflections.  The 
cure  for  monotone  and  sing-song  delivery  lies  chiefly  in  the 
proper  use  of  this  modulation. 

Mrs.  J.  W.  Shoemaker  says:1  "Inflections  show  contrast. 
They  tell  the  facts.  Length  of  slides  shows  the  importance 
of  the  facts.  Straight  slides  show  directness  of  purpose. 
Waves  show  beauty  and  sympathy.  Broken  slides  show 
weakness  and  uncertainty.  Zigzag  or  continuous  wave 
movements  represent  sarcasm,  irony,  scorn  and  duplicity. ' ' 

The  following  rules  are  taken  from  Professor  Plump  tre's 
King's  College  Lectures:2 

USES   OF  INFLECTION 

LOGICAL  USES  OF  THE  RISING  INFLECTION 

1.  So  long  as  the  meaning  of  a  clause  or  sentence  is  in- 
complete or  kept  suspended,  the  rising  inflection  is  to  be 
used. 

2.  All  clauses  or  sentences  that  are  negative  in  structure 
take  the  rising  inflection. 

3.  Clauses  or  sentences  that  express  doubt  or  contingency 
take  the  rising  inflection. 

4.  Sentences  that  are  interrogative  in  character,  and  to 
which  a  simple  affirmative  or  negative  can  be  returned  as 
an  answer,  end  with  the  rising  inflection. 

EMOTIONAL  USES  OF  THE  RISING  INFLECTION 

1.  When  a  sentence  is  in  the  nature  of  an  appeal,  it  takes 
,a  general  rising  inflection  throughout  its  delivery,  and  the 
key  of  the  voice  is  usually  more  or  less  high  in  pitch;  but 

1  Mrs.  J.  W.  Shoemaker,  Advanced  Elocution,  p.  36. 

8  Charles  John  Plumptre,  King's  College  Lectures,  pp.  120,  146. 


INFLECTION  127 

in  sad  and  solemn  appeals  the  pitch  of  the  inflection  is 
always  low. 

2.  Sentences  that  convey  supplication  or  prayer  take  a 
general  rising  inflection  throughout  their  delivery,  the  key 
of  the  voice  varying  from  a  low  one,  if  the  prayer  is  very 
solemn  in  character,  to  one  more  or  less  high,  if  the  sup- 
plication is  simply  pathetic  in  its  nature. 

3.  All  sentences  that  express  joy,  love,  friendship,  hope, 
and  in  general  all  the  more  pleasurable  and  amiable  emo- 
tions, partake  of  a  rising  inflection,  and  the  voice  is  usually 
pitched  in  keys  more  or  less  high;  tho  where  great  ten- 
derness, pity  or  pathos  mingles  with  the  affection,  the  voice 
is  often  modulated  into  a  low,  soft,  minor  key,  as  it  has  been 
termed  in  elocution. 

4.  Sentences  that  express  wonder,  amazement,  or  surprise 
take  an  extreme  degree  of  the  rising  inflection,  and  the  voice 
is  usually  pitched  in  very  high  keys,  unless  awe,  dread,  or 
terror  mingles  with  the  emotion,  when  keys  more  or  less  low 
in  pitch  prevail. 

LOGICAL  USES  OF  THE  FALLING  INFLECTION 

1.  As  soon  as  the  meaning  of  a  sentence,  or  clause  of  a 
sentence,  is  logically  complete,  then  the  falling  inflection 
must  be  employed. 

2.  Inasmuch  as  a  falling  inflection  always  suggests  to 
the  mind  a  certain  degree  of  completeness  of  meaning,  it 
may  be  usefully  employed  in  those  sentences  which  consist 
of  several  clauses,  conveying  imperfect  sense,  and  independ- 
ent of  each  other's  meaning,  for  the  purpose  of  keeping  the 
several  clauses  separate  and  distinct  from  each  other. 

3.  Where  a  sentence  is  interrogative  in  its  character,  and 
one  to  which  a  simple  affirmative  or  negative  cannot  be  re- 

i 


128  HOW  TO  SPEAK  IN  PUBLIC 

turned  as  an  answer,  but  something  definite  in  expression 
must  be  given  instead,  such  sentence  requires  at  its  close 
the  falling  inflection. 

EMOTIONAL  USES  OF  THE  FALLING  INFLECTION 

1.  Where  it  is  desired  to  convey  the  impression  of  solemn 
affirmation  or  strong  conviction  of  the  truth  of  what  we 
say,  emphatic  falling  inflections  on  the  principal  words, 
even  tho  the  sentence  may  be  negative  in  form  of  con- 
struction, produce  the  desired  effect ;  and  the  keys  in  which 
the  inflections  are  pitched  are  in  general  low. 

2.  Sentences   that   express   command,   reprehension,    or 
authority,  take  emphatic  falling  inflections,  and  the  range 
of  the  voice  in  pitch  is  usually  from  the  middle  to  lower 
keys. 

3.  It  may  be  said  as  a  general  principle  that  all  the 
sterner,   harsher,   and  more  vindictive   passions,   such   as 
anger,  hatred,  detestation,  etc.,  take  the  most  extreme  degree 
of  the  emphatic  falling  inflection,  and  the  voice,  for  the 
most  part  loud  in  power,  is  pitched  in  the  lower  keys. 

4.  In  sentences  that  express  gloom,   dejection,  melan- 
choly, and  similar  distressing  emotions,  falling  inflections 
predominate,  and  the  voice  is  pitched  in  keys  more  or  less 
low,  and  the  time  is  slow. 

LOGICAL  USES  OF  THE  CIRCUMFLEX  INFLECTION 
1.  When  any  word  is  introduced  which  suggests  an  an- 
tithesis without  openly  expressing  it,  such  word  should 
have  emphatic  force,  and  be  pronounced  with  a  circumflex 
inflection.  An  affirmative  or  positive  clause  takes  a  falling, 
and  a  negative  or  contingent  clause  a  rising  circumflex  on 
the  words  suggesting  an  antithesis. 


INFLECTION  129 

2.  When  words  or  clauses  are  antithetic  in  meaning,  and 
emphatic  in  character,  the  falling  circumflex  inflection 
should  be  used  on  the  positive  or  absolute  member,  and  the 
rising  on  the  negative  or  relative. 

EMOTIONAL  USES  OF  THE  CIRCUMFLEX  INFLECTION 

1.  Whenever  it  is  designed  to  make  any  passage  ironical, 
an  emphatic  prolonged  circumflex  inflection  should  be  given 
to  the  words  in  which  the  irony  is  meant  to  be  conveyed. 

2.  All  passages  that  express  scorn,  contempt,  or  reproach, 
take   emphatic   prolonged   circumflexes   on   the   principal 
words,  the  keys  in  which  the  voice  is  pitched  varying  ac- 
cording to  the  dominant  emotion. 

When  a  question  is  followed  by  words  closely  connected 
with  it,  the  end  of  the  passage  takes  a  rising  inflection,  as, 
"Am  I  my  brother's  keeper?"  said  the  unhappy  man. 

EXAMPLES 

1.  This  was  unnatural.  The  rest  is  in  order.  They  have  found 
their  punishment  in  their  success.  Laws  overturned;  tribunals 
subverted;  industry  without  vigor;  commerce  expiring;  the  rev- 
enue unpaid,  yet  the  people  impoverished;  a  church  pillaged, 
and  a  state  not  relieved;  civil  and  military  anarchy  made  the  con- 
stitution of  the  kingdom;  everything  human  and  divine  sacrificed 
to  the  idol  of  public  credit,  and  national  bankruptcy  the  con- 
sequence ;  and  to  crown  all,  the  paper  securities  of  new,  precarious, 
tottering  power,  the  discredited  paper  securities  of  impoverished 
fraud,  and  beggared  rapine,  held  out  as  a  currency  for  the  sup- 
port of  an  empire,  in  lieu  of  the  two  great  recognized  species  that 
represent  the  lasting  conventional  credit  of  mankind,  which  dis- 
appeared and  hid  themselves  in  the  earth  from  whence  they  came, 
when  the  principle  of  property,  whose  creatures  and  represent- 
atives they  are,  was  systematically  subverted.  BURKE. 


130  HOW  TO  SPEAK  IN  PUBLIC 

2.  If  then  the  power  of  speech  is  a  gift  as  great  as  any  that 
can  be  named, — if  the  origin  of  language  is  by  many  philosophers 
even  considered  to  be  nothing  short  of  divine, — if  by  means  of 
words  the  secrets  of  the  heart  are  brought  to  light,  pain  of  soul 
is  relieved,  hidden  grief  is  earned  off,  sympathy  conveyed,  counsel 
imparted,  experience  recorded,  and  wisdom  perpetuated, — if  by 
great  authors  the  many  are  drawn  up  into  unity,  national  char- 
acter is  fixed,  a  people  speaks,  the  past  and  the  future,  the  East 
and  the  West  are  brought  into  communication  with  each  other, — 
if  such  men  are,  in  a  word,  the  spokesmen  and  prophets  of  the 
human  family, — it  will  not  answer  to  make  light  of  Literature 
or  to  neglect  its  study ;  rather  we  may  be  sure  that,  in  proportion 
as  we  master  it  in  whatever  language,  and  imbibe  its  spirit,  we 
shall  ourselves  become  in  our  own  measure  the  ministers  of  like 
benefits  to  others,  be  they  many  or  few,  be  they  in  the  obscurer 
or  the  more  distinguished  walks  of  life, — who  are  united  to  us 
by  social  ties,  and  are  within  the  sphere  of  our  personal  influence. 

CARDINAL  NEWMAN. 

3.  When  I  look  upon  the  tombs  of  the  great,  every  emotion 
of  envy  dies  in  me;  when  I  read  the  epitaphs  of  the  beautiful, 
every  inordinate  desire  goes  out;  when  I  meet  with  the  grief  of 
parents  upon  a  tombstone,  my  heart  melts  with  compassion ;  when 
I  see  the  tomb  of  the  parents  themselves,  I  consider  the  vanity 
of  grieving  for  those  whom  we  must  quickly  follow.    When  I  see 
kings  lying  by  those  who  deposed  them,  when  I  consider  rival 
wits  placed  side  by  side,  or  the  holy  men  that  divided  the  world 
with  their  contests  and  disputes,  I  reflect  with  sorrow  and  astonish- 
ment on  the  little  competitions,  factions,  and  debates  of  mankind. 
When  I  read  the  several  dates  of  the  tombs,  of  some  that  died 
yesterday,  and  some  six  hundred  years  ago,  I  consider  that  great 
day  when  we  shall  all  of  us  be  contemporaries,  and  make  our 
appearance  together. 

"The  Spectator."  ADDISON. 

4.  Take  heed  that  ye  do  not  your  alms  before  men,  to  be  seen 
of  them:  otherwise  ye  have  no  reward  of  your  Father  which  is 
in  heaven.     Therefore  when  thou  doest  thine  alms,  do  not  sound 
a  trumpet  before   thee,   as  the   hypocrites   do   in   the   synagogs 


INFLECTION  131 

and  in  the  streets,  that  they  may  have  glory  of  men.  Verily  I 
say  unto  you,  They  have  their  reward.  But  when  thou  doest 
alms,  let  not  thy  left  hand  know  what  thy  right  hand  doeth :  that 
thine  alms  may  be  in  secret :  and  thy  Father  which  seeth  in  secret 
himself  shall  reward  thee  openly.  And  when  thou  prayest,  thou 
shalt  not  be  as  the  hypocrites  are :  for  they  love  to  pray  standing 
in  the  synagogs  and  in  the  corners  of  the  streets,  that  they 
may  be  seen  of  men.  Verily  I  say  unto  you,  They  have  their 
reward.  But  thou,  when  thou  prayest,  enter  into  thy  closet,  and 
when  thou  hast  shut  thy  door,  pray  to  thy  Father  which  is  in 
secret;  and  thy  Father  which  seeth  in  secret  shall  reward  thee 
openly.  But  when  ye  pray,  use  not  vain  repetitions,  as  the 
heathen  do:  for  they  think  that  they  shall  be  heard  for  their 
much  speaking.  Be  not  ye  therefore  like  unto  them:  for  your 
Father  knoweth  what  things  ye  have  need  of,  before  ye  ask  him. 
"St.  Matthew  6, 1-8."  THE  BIBLE. 

5.  Observe,  however,  I  do  not  mean  by  excluding  direct  exer- 
tion of  the  intellect  from  ideas  of  beauty,  to  assert  that  beauty 
has  no  effect  upon  nor  connection  with  the  intellect.  All  our 
moral  feelings  are  so  inwoven  with  our  intellectual  powers,  that 
we  cannot  affect  the  one  without  in  some  degree  addressing  the 
other;  and  in  all  high  ideas  of  beauty,  it  is  more  than  probable 
that  much  of  the  pleasure  depends  on  delicate  and  untraceable 
perceptions  of  fitness,  propriety,  and  relation,  which  are  purely 
intellectual,  and  through  which  we  arrive  at  our  noblest  ideas  of 
what  is  commonly  and  rightly  called  "intellectual  beauty."  But 
there  is  yet  no  immediate  exertion  of  the  intellect;  that  is  to 
say,  if  a  person  receiving  even  the  noblest  ideas  of  simple  beauty 
be  asked  why  he  likes  the  object  exciting  them,  he  will  not  be 
able  to  give  any  distinct  reason,  nor  to  trace  in  his  mind  any 
formed  thought,  to  which  he  can  appeal  as  a  source  of  pleasure. 
He  will  say  that  the  thing  gratifies,  fills,  hallows,  exalts  his  mind, 
but  he  will  not  be  able  to  say  why,  or  how.  If  he  can,  and  if  he 
can  show  that  he  perceives  in  the  object  any  expression  of  distinct 
thought,  he  has  received  more  than  an  idea  of  beauty — it  is  an 
idea  of  relation. 

"Modern  Painters."  RUSKIN. 


CHAPTER   IX 


PICTURING 

This  is  the  image-making  faculty.  The  ability  to  call 
to  mind  vivid  and  varied  pictures,  appropriate  to  the 
thought,  is  a  powerful  element  in  good  speaking.  What 
the  speaker  sees  in  his  imagination  is  likely  to  be  shared 
by  his  auditors.  This  is  well  described  by  Dr.  Conwell 
when  he  says: 

"Oh!  the  power  of  words!  With  them  we  sway  men's  minds 
at  will.  Let  me  call  your  attention  to  the  sea.  The  Sea!  Close 
your  eyes  and  look  at  it  as  you  saw  it  last  summer.  Think  of 
its  waves  away,  away  out  yonder — see  that  ripple  of  white  run- 
ning along  on  the  crest  of  the  nearer  one — see  it  now  as  it 
sheens  and  advances  in  wreaths  of  delicate  foam  almost  to  your 
feet,  and  then  rolls  playfully  back  in  beautiful  sheets  to  be  lost 
in  the  next  incoming  tide.  See  the  old  mast  out  there  and  the 
sails  that  dot  the  horizon.  You  see  them  all  now !  Why  ?  Words 
— only  words!" 

To  test  what  you  really  saw  in  reading  the  foregoing, 
answer  questions  like  the  following:  Did  you  see  the  sea? 
What  color  was  it?  How  high  were  the  waves?  Was 
there  any  breeze?  Was  it  day  or  night?  Did  you  see 
any  boats?  How  many?  Sailboats  or  otherwise?  How 
far  away  were  they  ?  Where  were  you  ? 

"Home!  Now  you  think  of  your  old  homestead.  Let  me  go 
through  it  with  you  as  you  roam  about  the  dear  old  familiar 
scenes.  Tell  me  where  your  mother  sat  and  where  your  father 
used  to  read  the  paper.  Show  me  the  place  where  your  sister 

132 


PICTURING  133 

played  and  where  you  studied  in  those  dear  old  days.  You  see 
it  all  again!  Why?  I  have  uttered  one  word.  A  word — only 
a  word!" 

Did  you  see  the  old  home?  Was  it  indoors?  Describe 
it.  Did  you  see  your  mother  ?  Describe  her.  Describe  your 
father  and  sister.  What  more  did  you  see? 

The  image-making  faculty  can  be  surprisingly  developed 
by  such  aids  as  endeavoring  to  see  pictures  of  what  one 
reads,  to  describe  it  orally  to  another,  to  write  about  it  in 
one's  own  words.  The  aim  should  be  to  secure  vivid  im- 
pressions. For  practise  write  from  memory  a  description 
of  a  storm,  a  landscape,  a  battle,  the  sky  at  night,  a  fire. 


EXAMPLES 

1.  Old  Wardle  led  the  way  to  a  pretty  large  sheet  of  ice; 
and,  the   fat  boy  and  Mr.   Weller  having  shoveled   and   swept 
away  the  snow  which  had  fallen  on  it  during  the  night,  Mr. 
Bob  Sawyer  adjusted  his  skates  with  a  dexterity  which  to  Mr. 
Winkle  was  perfectly  marvelous,  and  described  circles  with  his 
left  leg,  and  cut  figures  of  eight,  and  inscribed  upon  the  ice, 
without  once  stopping  for  breath,  a  great  many  other  pleasant 
and   astonishing   devices,   to   the    excessive   satisfaction    of    Mr. 
Pickwick,  Mr.  Tupman,  and  the  ladies;  which  reached  a  pitch 
of  positive  enthusiasm  when  old  Wardle  and  Benjamin  Allen, 
assisted  by  the  aforesaid  Bob  Sawyer,  performed  some  mystic 
evolutions  which  they  called  a  reel. 

"Pickwick  Papers."  DICKENS. 

2.  I  had  occasion,  a  few  weeks  since,  to  take  the  early  train 
from  Providence  to  Boston;  and  for  this  purpose  rose  at  two 
o'clock  in  the  morning.     Everything  around  was  wrapt  in  dark- 
ness and  hushed  in  silence,  broken  only  by  what  seemed  at  that 
hour  the  unearthly  clank  and  rush  of  the  train.     It  was  a  mild, 


134  HOW  TO  SPEAK  IN  PUBLIC 

serene,  midsummer's  night — the  sky  was  without  a  cloud — the 
winds  were  whist.  The  moon,  then  in  the  last  quarter,  had  just 
risen,  and  the  stars  shone  with  a  spectral  lustre  but  little  affected 
by  her  presence.  Jupiter,  two  hours  high,  was  the  herald  of 
the  day;  the  pleiades,  just  above  the  horizon,  shed  their  sweet 
influence  in  the  east.  .  .  .  Such  was  the  glorious  spectacle 
as  I  entered  the  train.  As  we  proceeded,  the  timid  approach 
of  twilight  became  more  perceptible;  the  intense  blue  of  the 
sky  began  to  soften;  the  smaller  stars,  like  little  children,  went 
first  to  rest ;  the  sister  beams  of  the  pleiades  soon  melted  together ; 
but  the  bright  constellations  of  the  west  and  north  remained  un- 
changed. Steadily  the  wondrous  transfiguration  went  on.  Hands 
of  angels,  hidden  from  mortal  eyes,  shifted  the  scenery  of  the 
heavens;  the  glories  of  night  dissolved  into  the  glories  of  dawn. 

EDWARD  EVERETT. 

3.  The  circumstances  now  clearly  in  evidence  spread  out  the 
whole  scene  before  us.  Deep  sleep  had  fallen  on  the  destined 
victim,  and  on  all  beneath  his  roof.  A  healthful  old  man,  to 
whom  sleep  was  sweet;  the  first  sound  slumbers  of  the  night  held 
him  in  their  soft  but  strong  embrace.  The  assassin  enters, 
through  the  window  already  prepared,  into  an  unoccupied  apart- 
ment. With  noiseless  foot  he  paces  the  lonely  hall,  half-lighted 
by  the  moon;  he  winds  up  the  ascent  of  the  stairs,  and  reaches 
the  door  of  the  chamber.  Of  this,  he  moves  the  lock,  by  soft 
and  continued  pressure,  till  it  turns  on  its  hinges  without  noise; 
and  he  enters,  and  beholds  his  victim  before  him.  The  room  is 
uncommonly  open  to  the  admission  of  light.  The  face  of  the 
innocent  sleeper  is  turned  from  the  murderer,  and  the  beams 
of  the  moon,  resting  on  the  gray  locks  of  his  aged  temple,  show 
him  where  to  strike.  The  fatal  blow  is  given!  and  the  victim 
passes,  without  a  struggle  or  a  motion,  from  the  repose  of  sleep 
to  the  repose  of  death !  It  is  the  assassin's  purpose  to  make  sure 
work;  and  he  plies  the  dagger,  tho  it  is  obvious  that  life 
has  been  destroyed  by  the  blow  of  the  bludgeon.  He  even  raises 
the  aged  arm,  that  he  may  not  fail  in  his  aim  at  the  heart,  and 
replaces  it  again  over  the  wounds  of  the  poniard.  To  finish  the 
picture,  he  explores  the  wrist  for  the  pulse!  He  feels  for  it, 
and  ascertains  that  it  beats  no  longer!  It  is  accomplished.  The 


PICTURING  135 

deed  is  done.     He  retreats,  retraces  his  steps  to  the   window, 
passes  out  through  it  as  he  came  in,  and  escapes. 

"The  White  Murder  Case."  WEBSTER. 

4.  From  the  workshop  of  the  Golden  Key  there  issued  forth 
a  tinkling  sound,  so  merry  and  good-humored  that  it  suggested  the 
idea  of  some  one  working  blithely,  and  made  quite  pleasant  music. 
No  man  who  hammered  on  at  a  dull  monotonous  duty  could  have 
brought  such  cheerful  notes  from  steel  and  iron;   none  but  a 
chirping,  healthy,  honest-hearted  fellow,  who  made  the  best  of 
everything,  and  felt  kindly  towards  everybody,  could  have  done 
it  for  an  instant.    He  might  have  been  a  coppersmith,  and  still 
been  musical.     If  he  had  sat  in  a  jolting  wagon,  full  of  rods  of 
iron,  it  seemed  as  if  he  would  have  brought  some  harmony  out 
of  it.     Tink,  tink,  tink — clear  as  a  silver  bell,  and  audible  at 
every    pause    of    the    street's    harsher    noises,    as    tho    it    said, 
"I  don't  care;  nothing  puts  me  out;  I  am  resolved  to  be  happy." 

Women  scolded,  children  squalled,  heavy  carts  went  rumbling 
by,  horrible  cries  proceeded  from  the  lungs  of  hawkers;  still  it 
struck  in  again,  no  higher,  no  lower,  no  louder,  no  softer;  not 
thrusting  itself  on  people's  notice  a  bit  the  more  for  having  been 
outdone  by  louder  sounds — tink,  tink,  tink,  tink,  tink. 

It  was  a  perfect  embodiment  of  the  still,  small  voice,  free 
from  all  cold,  hoarseness,  huskiness,  or  unhealthiness  of  any 
kind;  foot-passengers  slackened  their  pace,  and  were  disposed 
to  linger  near  it;  neighbors  who  had  got  up  splenetic  that  morn- 
ing, felt  good-humor  stealing  on  them  as  they  heard  it,  and  by 
degrees  became  quite  sprightly;  mothers  danced  their  babies  to 
its  ringing;  still  the  same  magical  tink,  tink,  tink,  came  gaily 
from  the  workshop  of  the  Golden  Key. 

CHARLES  DICKENS. 

5.  The  little  square  that  surrounds  it  is  deplorably  narrow, 
and  you  flatten  your  back  against  the  opposite  houses  in  the  vain 
attempt  to  stand  off  and  survey  the  towers.     The  proper  way  to 
look  at  them  would  be  to  go  up  in  a  balloon  and  hang  poised, 
face  to  face  with  them,  in  the  blue  air.     There  is,  however,  per- 
haps an  advantage  in  being  forced  to  stand  so  directly  under  them, 
for  this  position  gives  you  an  overwhelming  impression  of  their 


136  HOW  TO  SPEAK  IN  PUBLIC 

height.  I  have  seen,  I  suppose,  churches  as  beautiful  as  this 
one,  but  I  do  not  remember  ever  to  have  been  so  fascinated  by 
superpositions  and  vertical  effects. 

"Chartres  Cathedral"  HENRY  JAMES. 

6.    'Twas  an  autumn  eve:  the  splendor 

Of  the  day  was  gone, 
And  the  twilight,  soft  and  tender, 

Stole  so  gently  on 
That  the  eye  could  scarce  discover 
How  the  shadows,  spreading  over, 

Like  a  veil  of  silvery  gray, 
Toned  the  golden  clouds,  sun  painted, 
Till  they  paled,  and  paled,  and  faulted 

From  the  face  of  heaven  away. 
And  a  dim  light  rising  slowly 

O'er  the  welkin  spread, 
Till  the  blue  sky,  calm  and  holy, 

Gleamed  above  our  head. 
"The  Spanish  Duel."  J.  F.  WALLER. 

7.  Z-Z-Z-Z-Z-Z !  A  monster  of  iron,  steel  and  brass,  standing 
on  the  slim  iron  rails  which  shoot  away  from  the  station  for 
half  a  mile  and  then  lose  themselves  in  a  green  forest. 

Puff-puff !  The  driving  wheels  slowly  turn,  the  monster  breathes 
great  clouds  of  steam  and  seems  anxious  for  the  race. 

A  grizzly-haired  engineer  looks  down  from  the  cab  window, 
while  his  fireman  pulls  back  the  iron  door  and  heaves  in  more 
wood, — more  breath  and  muscle  for  the  grim  giant  of  the  track. 

The  fire  roars  and  crackles — the  steam  hisses  and  growls; 
every  breath  is  drawn  as  fiercely  as  if  the  giant  was  burning  to 
revenge  an  insult. 

Up — up — up!  The  pointer  on  the  steam-gauge  moves  faster 
than  the  minute-hand  on  a  clock.  The  breathing  becomes  louder, 
— the  hiss  rises  to  a  scream, — the  iron  rails  tremble  and  quiver. 

"Climb  up !" 

It  is  going  to  be  a  race  against  time  and  the  telegraph. 

S-s-s-sh ! 

The  engineer  rose  up,  I  looked  ahead,  glanced  at  the  dial, 
and  as  his  fingers  clasped  the  throttle  he  asked  the  station-agent : 


PICTURING  137 

"Are  you  sure  that  the  track  is  clear?" 

"All  clear!"  was  the  answer. 

The  throttle  feels  the  pull,  the  giant  utters  a  fierce  scream, 
and  we  are  off,  I  on  the  fireman's  seat,  the  fireman  on  the  wood. 
The  rails  slide  under  us  slowly — faster,  and  the  giant  screams 
again  and  dashes  into  the  forest. 

This  isn't  fast.  The  telegraph  poles  dance  past  as  if  not  over 
thirty  feet  apart,  and  the  board  fence  seems  to  rise  from  the 
ground,  but  it's  only  thirty-five  miles  an  hour. 

"Wood!" 

The  engineer  takes  his  eyes  off  the  track  and  turns  just  long 
enough  to  speak  the  word  to  his  fireman.  The  iron  door  swings 
back,  and  there  is  an  awful  rush  and  roar  of  flame.  The  fire- 
box appears  full,  but  stick  after  stick  is  dropped  into  the  roar- 
ing pit  until  a  quarter  of  a  cord  has  disappeared. 

"This  is  forty  miles  an  hour!"  shouts  the  fireman  in  my  ear 
as  he  rubs  the  moisture  from  his  heated  face.  ' 

Yes,  this  is  faster.  The  fence  posts  seem  to  leap  from  the 
ground  as  we  dash  along,  and  the  telegraph  poles  bend  and  nod 
to  us.  A  house — a  field — a  farm — we  get  but  one  glance.  A  dozen 
houses — a  hundred  faces — that  was  a  station. 


Houses — faces — a  yell!  That  was  another  station.  We  made 
the  last  five  miles  in  six  minutes. 

Like  a  bird — like  an  arrow — like  a  bullet  almost,  we  speed 
forward. 

Scream!     Hiss!    Roar!     Shake — quiver — bound! 

Now  a  mile  a  minute !  Fences  f  No — only  a  black  line,  hardly 
larger  than  my  pencil!  Trees?  No — only  one  tree,  all  merged 
into  one  single  tree,  which  was  out  of  sight  in  a  flash.  Fields? 
Yes — one  broad  field,  broken  for  an  instant  by  a  highway, — a 
gray  thread  lying  on  the  ground! 

It  is  terrible!  If  we  should  leave  the  rails!  If— but  don't 
think  of  it!  Hold  fast! 

Eight  miles  in  eight  minutes,  not  a  second  more  or  less !  Four 
and  a  half  miles  to  go,  four  minutes  to  make  it!  We  must  run 
a  mile  every  fifty-three  seconds. 

Scream !     Sway !    Tremble ! 


138  HOW  TO  SPEAK  IN  PUBLIC 

We  are  making  time,  but  this  is  awful,  this  roar,  this  oscilla- 
tion! 

One  mile !  Two  miles !  I  dare  not  open  my  eyes !  Three  miles ! 
Can  I  ever  hear  again?  Will  I  ever  get  this  deafening  roar  out 
of  my  ears?  Will  the  seconds  ever  go  by? 

Scream ! 

The  engineer  shuts  off  steam,  the  fireman  hurrahs.  I  open 
my  eyes — we  are  at  the  station !  The  lightning  express  is  not  two 
seconds  away! 

"I  told  you!"  says  the  engineer,  "and  didn't  I  do  it?" 

He  did,  but  he  carried  three  lives  in  the  palm  of  the  hand 
that  grasped  the  throttle. 

"As  the  Pigeon  Flies."  C.  B.  LEWIS. 

8.  Observing  the  wide  and  general  devastation,  and  all  the 
horrors  of  the  scene — of  plains  unclothed  and  brown;  of  veg- 
etables burned  up  and  extinguished;  of  villages  depopulated  and 
in  ruins ;  of  temples  unroofed  and  perishing ;  of  reservoirs  broken 
down  and  dry — he  would  naturally  inquire,  what  war  has  thus 
laid  waste  the  fertile  fields  of  this  once  beautiful  and  opulent 
country  ?  SHERIDAN. 


CONCENTRATION 

The  practise  of  being  interested  is  recommended  as  the 
best  means  of  developing  concentration.  We  are  most  in- 
terested in  those  subjects  that'  give  us  pleasure,  arouse  our 
expectation,  or  possess  some  degree  of  familiarity.  To  be 
able  to  focus  the  attention  upon  a  single  subject  and  single 
objects  belonging  to  it,  is  a  rare  accomplishment  and  of 
great  advantage  to  a  public  speaker.  It  can  be  acquired 
only  through  long  and  patient  study  and  exercise.  No  great 
mental  achievement  is  possible  without  this  power  of  con- 
tinued attention.  There  is  an  inseparable  connection  be- 
tween attention  and  memory,  it  being  impossible  to  develop 
one  without  the  other. 


CONCENTRATION  139 

Professor  James  says:  "There  is  no  such  thing  as  vol- 
untary attention  sustained  for  more  than  a  few  seconds  at 
a  time.  What  is  called  sustained  voluntary  attention  is 
a  repetition  of  successive  efforts  which  bring  back  the 
topic  to  the  mind.  The  topic  once  brought  back,  if  a  con- 
genial one,  develops;  and  if  its  development  is  interesting 
it  engages  the  attention  passively  for  a  time.  This  passive 
interest  may  be  short  or  long.  As  soon  as  it  flags,  the  at- 
tention is  diverted  by  some  irrelevant  thing,  and  then  a 
voluntary  effort  may  bring  it  back  to  the  topic  again;  and 
so  on,  under  favorable  conditions,  for  hours  together.  Dur- 
ing all  this  time,  however,  note  that  it  is  not  an  identical 
object  in  the  psychical  sense,  but  a  succession  of  mutually 
related  objects  forming  an  identical  topic  only,  upon  which 
the  attention  is  fixed.  No  one  can  possibly  attend  contin- 
uously to  an  object  that  does  not  change." 

The  subject  of  attention  is  well  illustrated  by  Professor 
Loisette  in  his  system  for  cultivating  the  memory.  He  says : 
"You  may  have  seen  a  shoemaker  putting  nails  into  the 
sole  of  a  boot.  With  his  left  thumb  and  finger  he  pricks 
the  point  of  the  nail  into  the  leather  just  far  enough  to 
make  the  nail  stand  upright.  It  is  so  feebly  attached  that 
at  the  least  shake  it  falls  on  the  floor.  Then  down  comes 
the  hammer  and  drives  the  nail  up  to  the  head.  Now  the 
sensations  that  are  continually  pouring  in  upon  us  by  all 
the  avenues  of  sense — by  the  eye,  ear,  nose,  tongue  and  skin 
— as  well  as  the  ideas  streaming  into  our  minds,  are  on 
their  first  arrival  attached  as  feebly  as  the  nails  to  the 
boot.  But  then  down  comes  the  attention  like  a  hammer, 
and  drives  them  into  consciousness,  so  that  their  record 
remains  forever." 

The  degree  of  attention  that  we  can  give  to  an  object  will 


140  HOW  TO  SPEAK  IN  PUBLIC 

depend  upon  our  habitual  methods  of  study  and  thought. 
Professor  Joseph  Stewart  offers  the  following  suggestions : 

"The  habits  of  thought  should  be  rational.  Vagaries 
should  be  avoided.  The  mind  must  be  trained  to  hold  its 
concepts  clearly  without  obliquity  or  blur.  Therefore,  in- 
nuendo, indirectness,  and  slackness  of  thought  and  expres- 
sion should  be  guarded  against.  The  processes  of  the  mind 
should  be  carried  on  logically.  Avoid  irrelevancy.  The 
habit  of  the  mind  should  be  selective.  Choose  the  order  and 
kind  of  thought  you  put  into  your  mental  house." 

Kule  a  square  of  cardboard  in  columns  and  place  therein 
a  series  of  symbols  or  characters,  with  each  of  which  there 
is  to  be  associated  in  the  mind  a  particular  thought.  Place 
the  board  where  it  may  be  conveniently  seen,  and,  begin- 
ning with  the  first  symbol,  go  over  the  series  in  regular  or- 
der, holding  in  mind  for  a  particular  time  the  special  con- 
cept or  thought,  and  that  alone,  associated  with  each  sym- 
bol. The  student  may  elaborate  this  plan  as  to  symbols, 
the  associated  concepts,  or  the  order  of  viewing  them,  and 
make  it  as  complex  as  he  desires.  The  principle  of  con- 
centration is  the  persistent  but  gentle  calling  back  of  the 
mind  to  the  original  thought,  and  is  effected  by  merely 
substituting  it  for  the  intrusive  one. 

Concentrate  without  using  muscular  force.  The  clearest 
mind  dwells  in  the  healthiest  body,  and  this  is  the  best 
condition  for  concentration. 

EXAMPLES 

1.  On  a  sudden  the  field  of  combat  opens  on  his  astonished 
vision.  It  is  a  field  which  men  call  "glorious."  A  hundred  thou- 
sand warriors  stand  in  opposed  ranks.  Light  gleams  on  their 
burnished  steel.  Their  plumes  and  banners  wave.  Hill  echoes 
to  hill  the  noise  of  moving  rank  and  squadron, — the  neigh  and 


CONCENTRATION  141 

tramp  of  steeds, — the  trumpet,  drum,  and  bugle  call.  There  is 
a  momentary  pause, — a  silence  like  that  which  precedes  the  fall 
of  a  thunder-bolt, — like  that  awful  stillness,  which  is  precursor 
to  the  desolating  rage  of  the  whirlwind.  In  an  instant,  flash  suc- 
ceeding flash,  pours  columns  of  smoke  along  the  plain.  The 
iron  tempest  sweeps,  heaping  man,  horse,  and  car,  in  undistin- 
guished ruin.  In  shouts  of  rushing  hosts, — in  shock  of  breasting 
steeds, — in  peals  of  musketry,  in  artillery's  roar, — in  sabres' 
clash, — in  thick  and  gathering  clouds  of  smoke  and  dust,  all 
human  eye,  and  ear,  and  sense,  are  lost.  Man  sees  not,  but  the 
sign  of  onset.  Man  hears  not,  but  the  cry  of — "Onward !" 
"The  Field  of  Battle."  HALL. 

2.    The  gray  sea  and  the  long  black  land; 
And  the  yellow  half -moon,  large  and  low; 

And  the  startled  little  waves  that  leap 

In  fiery  ringlets  from  their  sleep, 
As  I  gain  the  cove  with  pushing  prow, 
And  quench  its  speed  in  the  slushy  sand. 

Then  a  mile  of  warm,  sea-scented  beach; 
Three  fields  to  cross  till  a  farm  appears; 

A  tap  at  the  pane,  the  quick,  sharp  scratch 

And  blue  spurt  of  a  lighted  match, 
And  a  voice  less  loud,  thro'  its  joys  and  fears, 
Then  the  two  hearts  beating  each  to  each! 

"Meeting  at  Night."  BROWNING. 

3.  When  the  mind  loses  hold  of  its  object,  whether  devotional 
or  intellectual — as  it  will  do,  time  after  time — it  must  be  brought 
back,  and  again  directed  to  the  object.  Often  at  first  it  will 
wander  away  without  the  wandering  being  noticed,  and  the  stu- 
dent suddenly  awakes  to  the  fact  that  he  is  thinking  about  some- 
thing quite  other  than  the  proper  object  of  thought.  This  will 
happen  again  and  again,  and  he  must  patiently  bring  it  back — 
a  wearisome  and  tiring  process,  but  there  is  no  other  way  by 
which  concentration  can  be  gained. 

"Thought  Power."  ANNIE  BESANT. 


142  HOW  TO  SPEAK  IN  PUBLIC 

4.  These  abominable  principles,  and  this  more  abominable 
avowal  of  them,  demand  the  most  decisive  indignation.  I  call 
upon  that  right  reverend  bench,  those  holy  ministers  of  the  Gos- 
pel, and  pious  pastors  of  our  Church — I  conjure  them  to  join 
in  the  holy  work,  and  vindicate  the  religion  of  their  God.  I  ap- 
peal to  the  wisdom  and  the  law  of  this  learned  bench  to  defend 
and  support  the  justice  of  their  country.  I  call  upon  the  bishops 
to  interpose  the  unsullied  sanctity  of  their  lawn ;  upon  the  learned 
judges,  to  interpose  the  purity  of  their  ermine,  to  save  us  from 
this  pollution.  I  call  upon  the  honor  of  your  Lordships  to  rev- 
erence the  dignity  of  your  ancestors,  and  to  maintain  your  own. 
I  call  upon  the  spirit  and  humanity  of  my  country  to  vindicate 
the  national  character.  I  invoke  tlie  genius  of  the  Constitution. 
From  the  tapestry  that  adorns  these  walls,  the  immortal  ancestor 
of  this  noble  lord  frowns  with  indignation  at  the  disgrace  of 
his  country.  In  vain  he  led  your  victorious  fleets  against  the 
boasted  Armada  of  Spain;  in  vain  he  defended  and  established 
the  honor,  the  liberties,  the  religion — the  Protestant  religion — of 
this  country,  against  the  arbitrary  cruelties  of  popery  and  the 
Inquisition,  if  these  more  than  popish  cruelties  and  inquisitorial 
practises  are  let  loose  among  us — to  turn  forth  into  our  settle- 
ments, among  our  ancient  connections,  friends,  and  relations,  the 
merciless  cannibal,  thirsting  for  the  blood  of  man,  woman,  and 
child!  to  send  forth  the  infidel  savage — against  whom?  against 
your  Protestant  brethren;  to  lay  waste  their  country,  to  deso- 
late their  dwellings,  and  extirpate  their  race  and  name  with  these 
horrible  hell-hounds  of  savage  war — hell-hounds,  I  say,  of  sav- 
age war! 


My  lords,  I  am  old  and  weak,  and  at  present  unable  to  say 
more;  but  my  feelings  and  indignation  were  too  strong  to  have 
said  less.  I  could  not  have  slept  this  night  in  my  bed,  nor  reposed 
my  head  on  my  pillow,  without  giving  this  vent  to  my  eternal 
abhorrence  of  such  preposterous  and  enormous  principles. 

"On  American  Affairs."  LORD  CHATHAM. 


SPONTANEITY  143 

SPONTANEITY 

"All  art  must  be  preceded  by  a  certain  mechanical  ex- 
pertness,"  says  Goethe,  and  this  is  particularly  applicable 
to  the  subject  of  elocution.  There  should  be  long  and  pa- 
tient practise  of  mechanical  exercises  for  developing  accu- 
racy, flexibility,  and  facility  in  the  use  of  the  voice  and 
vehicles  of  expression.  The  highest  art  is  to  conceal  art, 
however,  and  a  time  comes  when  the  student  should  aban- 
don his  "rules"  and  "exercises"  and  yield  himself  wholly 
to  the  thought  and  feeling  to  be  expressed.  If  he  has  been 
well-trained,  the  members  of  expression  will  perform  their 
work  promptly  and  correctly  with  little  conscious  effort 
on  his  part.  The  speaker  must  test  and  criticize  over  and 
over  again  the  work  of  his  voice,  gesture,  and  expression, 
until  he  is  thoroughly  satisfied  as  to  its  accuracy  and  de- 
pendableness.  To  produce  his  effects  spontaneously  there 
must  be  freedom  from  restraint  and  external  force,  tho 
the  will  should  so  dominate  as  to  promptly  check  any  vio- 
lations of  harmony  or  naturalness. 

The  essential  qualities  of  spontaneity  are  expression  in- 
stead of  repression,  freedom  rather  than  restraint,  unity, 
earnestness,  concentration,  and  naturalness. 

EXAMPLES 

1.  Give  us,  oh,  give  us,  the  man  who  sings  at  his  work!  He 
will  do  more  in  the  same  time, — he  will  do  it  better, — he  will  per- 
severe longer.  One  is  scarcely  sensible  of  fatigue  whilst  he 
marches  to  music.  The  very  stars  are  said  to  make  harmony  as 
they  revolve  in  their  spheres.  Wondrous  is  the  strength  of  cheer- 
fulness, altogether  past  calculation  in  its  powers  of  endurance. 
Efforts,  to  be  permanently  useful,  must  be  uniformly  joyous,  a 
spirit  all  sunshine,  graceful  from  very  gladness,  beautiful  because 
bright.  CARLYLE. 


144  HOW  TO  SPEAK  IN  PUBLIC 

2.    A  hurry  of  hoofs  in  a  village  street, 

A  shape  in  the  moonlight,  a  bulk  in  the  dark, 
And  beneath,  from  the  pebbles,  in  passing,  a  spark 
Struck  out  by  a  steed  flying  fearless  and  fleet: 

That  was  all.    And  yet,  through  the  gloom  and  the  light, 
The  fate  of  a  nation  was  riding  that  night; 
And  the  spark  struck  out  by  that  steed,  in  his  flight, 
Kindled  the  land  into  flame  with  its  heat. 
"Paul  Revere's  Ride."  LONGFELLOW. 

3.    The  sea,  the  sea,  the  open  sea, 
The  blue,  the  fresh,  the  ever  free; 
Without  a  mark,  without  a  bound, 
It  runneth  the  earth's  wide  regions  round; 
It  plays  with  the  clouds,  it  mocks  the  skies, 
Or  like  a  cradled  creature  lies. 
I'm  on  the  sea,  I'm  on  the  sea, 
I  am  where  I  would  ever  be, 
With  the  blue  above  and  the  blue  below, 
And  silence  wheresoe'er  I  go. 
If  a  storm  should  come  and  awake  the  deep, 
What  matter?    I  shall  ride  and  sleep. 
"The  Sea."  BARRY  CORNWALL. 

4.  " Yo-ho,  my  boys !"  said  Fezziwig ;  "no  more  work  to-night, 
Christmas  Eve,  Dick !  Christmas,  Ebenezer !  Let's  have  the  shut- 
ters up  before  a  man  can  say  Jack  Robinson!  Clear  away,  my 
lads,  and  let's  have  lots  of  room  here !" 

Clear  away!  There  was  nothing  they  wouldn't  have  done,  or 
couldn't  have  done,  with  old  Fezziwig  standing  by.  It  was  done 
in  a  minute.  Every  movable  was  packed  off  as  if  it  were  dis- 
missed from  public  life  forevermore.  The  floor  was  swept  and 
watered,  lamps  were  trimmed,  fuel  was  heaped  upon  the  fire, 
and  the  warehouse  was  as  snug  and  warm  and  dry  and  bright 
a  ball-room  as  you  could  desire  to  see  upon  a  winter  night.  In 
came  a  fiddler  with  a  music-book  and  walked  up  to  the  lofty 
desk  and  made  an  orchestra  of  it,  and  tuned  like  fifty  stomach- 
aches. In  came  Mrs.  Fezziwig,  one  vast,  substantial  smile.  In 
came  the  two  Miss  Fezziwigs,  beaming  and  amiable.  In  came 


SPONTANEITY  145 

the  six  young  followers,  whose  hearts  they  broke.  In  came  all 
the  young  men  and  women  employed  in  the  business.  In  came 
the  housemaid  with  her  cousin,  the  baker.  In  came  the  cook  with 
her  brother's  particular  friend,  the  milkman.  In  they  all  came 
anyhow  and  everyhow!  Away  they  all  went,  twenty  couples  at 
once,  hands  half  round  and  back  again  the  other  way,  up  the 
middle  and  down  again,  round  and  round  in  various  stages  of 
affectionate  grouping;  old  top  couple  always  turning  up  at  the 
wrong  place,  new  top  couple  starting  off  again  as  soon  as  they 
got  there,  all  top  couple  at  last  with  not  a  bottom  one  to  help 
them. 

When  this  result  was  brought  about  old  Fezziwig,  clapping  his 
hands  to  stop  the  dance,  cried  out,  "Well  done!"  and  the  fiddler 
plunged  his  hot  face  into  a  pot  of  porter,  specially  provided  for 
that  purpose.  And  there  were  more  dances,  and  then  there  were 
forfeits,  and  then  there  were  more  dances,  and  there  was  cake 
and  there  was  negus,  and  there  was  a  great  piece  of  cold  roast, 
and  there  was  great  piece  of  cold  boiled,  and  there  were  mince 
pies  and  plenty  of  beer.  But  the  great  effect  of  the  evening 
came  after  the  roast  and  boiled,  when  the  fiddler  struck  up  "Sir 
Roger  de  Coverley!"  Then  old  Fezziwig  stood  out  to  dance  with 
Mrs.  Fezziwig,  top  couple  too  with  a  good  stiff  piece  of  work 
cut  out  for  them,  three  or  four  and  twenty  pairs  of  partners, 
people  who  were  not  to  be  trifled  with,  people  who  would  dance 
and  had  no  notion  of  walking. 

But  'if  there  had  been  twice  as  many,  or  four  times  as  many, 
old  Fezziwig  would  have  been  a  match  for  them,  and  so  would 
Mrs.  Fezziwig.  As  for  her,  she  was  worthy  of  being  his  partner 
in  every  sense  of  the  term.  A  positive  light  appeared  to  issue 
from  Fezziwig's  calves,  they  shone  in  every  part  of  the  dance. 
You  couldn't  have  predicted  at  any  given  moment  where  they 
would  have  turned  up  next,  and  when  old  Fezziwig  and  Mrs. 
Fezziwig  had  been  all  through  the  dance,  advance  and  retire, 
turn  your  partner,  bow  and  curtsey,  corkscrew,  thread  the  needle 
and  back  again  to  your  own  place,  Fezziwig  cut,  cut  so  deftly 
that  he  appeared  to  wink  with  his  legs.  At  eleven  o'clock  the 
domestic  ball  broke  up.  Then  old  Fezziwig  and  Mrs.  Fezziwig 
stood  one  on  either  side  of  the  door,  and  shaking  hands  with  each 
of  their  guests  individually  as  he  or  she  went  out  wished  him  or 
her  "A  Merry  Christmas!"  DICKENS. 


CHAPTER   X 

CONVERSATION 

The  habitual  use  of  language  and  manner  of  expression 
in  daily  conversation  will  greatly  influence  a  speaker's 
style  in  public  address.  The  difference  in  conversation, 
public  speaking  and  reading  is,  briefly,  as  follows : 

Conversation  is  dialogue  and  the  simplest  and  most  di- 
rect form  of  vocal  expression.  It  is  the  beginning  of  speech 
culture  and  no  effort  should  be  spared  to  acquire  ease  and 
correctness  in  its  use. 

Public  speaking  is  monologue  and  the  utterance  is  neces- 
sarily more  prolonged  to  suit  the  circumstances  of  space 
and  number.  Such  an  occasion  demands  increased  defi- 
niteness  and  deliberation  in  style. 

Reading  differs  from  either  of  the  foregoing  styles,  be- 
cause of  a  certain  formality  of  utterance  required  by  the 
strangeness  of  the  thought  and  its  construction.  The  reader 
does  not  here  utter  his  own  thoughts  but  those  "of  another, 
and  in  consequence  the  words  and  phraseology  are  not 
familiar  to  his  lips. 

In  his  admirable  book  on  "The  Art  of  Conversation," 
Mahaffy  names  as  subjective  conditions  to  conversation: 
1.  Physical  (a)  A  sweet  tone  of  voice;  (b)  Absence  of  local 
accent;  (c)  Absence  of  tricks  and  catch-words.  2.  Mental 
(a)  Knowledge  which  may  be  either  special  (great  topics, 
the  topic  of  the  day),  or  general  (books,  men)  ;  (b)  Quick-. 
ness.  3.  Moral:  Modesty,  simplicity,  unselfishness,  sympa- 
thy, and  tact. 

146 


CONVERSATION  147 

Conversation  affords  constant  opportunity  for  improve- 
ment in  speech.  The  student  should  criticize  his  own  utter- 
ance and  discriminate  between  pure  and  breathy  tones, 
softness  and  harshness  of  voice,  and  correct  and  faulty 
enunciation.  He  should  also  cultivate  intelligent  variety 
in  modulation  and  feeling.  A  good  conversational  style 
has  a  distinct  charm  and  should  be  persistently  cultivated. 

Hamilton  Wright  Mabie  tells  of  a  man  of  nervous  organ- 
ization who  gained  immense  benefit  by  simply  watching  the 
modulations  of  his  voice  and  persistently  resisting  the  in- 
clination to  run  into  high  tones.  He  had  found  not  only 
relief  for  the  vocal  chords,  but  a  steadiness  and  calmness 
of  thought  and  feeling  which  made  him  conscious  of  the 
great  blunder  of  wasting  nervous  strength  by  suffering  the 
vocal  chords  to  sympathize  with  an  excited  condition  rather 
than  keeping  them  under  steady  control. 

Practise  the  following  with  ease,  naturalness,  and  variety 
of  good  conversation,  avoiding  loudness: 

EXAMPLES 

1.  Did  you  ever  see  a  dandy  fisherman?  He  has  the  correct 
suit  on,  his  pole  is  a  beauty  from  Conroy's,  his  line  is  of  the  best 
gut,  his  book  is  full  of  artificial  flies, — plenty  of  artificial  flies, — 
his  fish-basket  hangs  behind  him;  and  he  is  a  fisherman.  May  be. 
Let  us  go  to  the  stream.  Standing  with  a  knowing  air,  he  throws 
his  fly;  but  the  fish  do  not  rise  at  it;  and  he  throws  again,  and 
again  they  do  not  rise.  And  all  the  while,  a  barefooted,  coatless 
boy  on  the  other  side  of  the  brook  is  catching  fish  as  fast  as  he 
can  pull  them  in.  He  has  just  a  rough  hook  on  a  bit  of  string, 
and  a  worm  for  bait,  but  he  gets  the  fish. 

HENRY  WARD  BEECHER. 


148  HOW  TO  SPEAK  IN  PUBLIC 

2.  As  soon  as  Macaulay  had  finished  his  rough  draft,  he  began 
to  fill  it  in  at  the  rate  of  six  sides  of  foolscap  every  morning, 
written  in  so  large  a  hand,  and  with  such  a  multitude  of  erasures, 
that  the  whole  six  pages  were,  on  an  average,  compressed  into 
two  pages  of  print.  This  portion  he  called  his  "Task";  and  he 
was  never  quite  easy  unless  he  completed  it  daily.  More  he 
seldom  sought  to  accomplish;  for  he  had  learned  by  long  expe- 
rience that  this  was  as  much  as  he  could  do  at  his  best ;  and  except 
when  at  his  best  he  never  would  work  at  all. 

"Life  and  Letters  of  Lord  Macaulay."          G.  0.  TREVELYAN. 


3.  There  was  a  certain  elderly  gentleman  who  lived  in  a  court 
of  the  Temple,  and  was  a  great  judge  and  lover  of  port  wine. 
Every  day  he  dined  at  his  club  and  drank  his  bottle  or  two  of 
port  wine,  and  every  night  came  home  to  the  Temple  and  went 
to  bed  in  his  lonely  chambers.  This  had  gone  on  many  years  with- 
out variation,  when  one  night  he  had  a  fit  on  coming  home,  and 
fell  and  cut  his  head  deep,  but  partly  recovered  and  groped 
about  in  the  dark  to  find  the  door.  When  he  was  afterwards  dis- 
covered, dead,  it  was  clearly  established  by  the  marks  of  his 
hands  about  the  room  that  he  must  have  done  so.  Now,  this 
chanced  on  the  night  of  Christmas  Eve,  and  over  him  lived  a 
young  fellow  who  had  sisters  and  young  country-friends,  and  who 
gave  them  a  little  party  that  night,  in  the  course  of  which  they 
played  at  Blindman's  Buff.  They  played  that  game,  for  their 
greater  sport,  by  the  light  of  the  fire  only;  and  once,  when  they 
were  all  quietly  rustling  and  stealing  about,  and  the  blindman 
was  trying  to  pick  out  the  prettiest  sister  (for  which  I  am  far 
from  blaming  him),  somebody  cried  "Hark!  The  man  below 
must  be  playing  Blindman's  Buff  by  himself  to-night!"  They 
listened,  and  they  heard  sounds  of  some  one  falling  about  and 
stumbling  against  furniture,  and  they  all  laughed  at  the  con- 
ceit, and  went  on  with  their  play,  more  light-hearted  and  merry 
than  ever.  Thus,  those  two  so  different  games  of  life  and  death 
were  played  out  together,  blindfolded,  in  the  two  sets  of  chambers. 

DICKENS. 


CONVERSATION  149 

4.  Only  last  week  a  teacher  in  one  of  the  primary  schools  of 
Chicago  reported  to  her  principal  that  a  certain  little  boy  in 
her  room'  was  so  hopelessly  dull  and  perverse  that  she  despaired 
of  teaching  him  anything.  The  child  would  sit  with  open  mouth 
and  look  at  her  as  she  would  talk  to  the  class,  and  five  minutes 
afterward  he  could  not  or  would  not  repeat  three  words  of  what 
had  been  said.  She  had  scolded  him,  made  him  stand  on  the  floor, 
kept  him  in  after  school,  and  even  whipped  him,  but  all  in  vain. 
The  principal  looked  into  the  case,  scratched  his  head,  stroked 
his  whiskers,  coughed,  and  decided  that  the  public  school  funds 
should  not  be  wasted  in  trying  to  "learn  imbeciles,"  and  so  re- 
ported to  the  parents.  He  advised  them  to  send  the  boy  to  a 
Home  for  the  Feeble  Minded,  sending  the  message  by  an  older 
brother.  So  the  parents  took  the  child  to  the  Home  and  asked 
that  he  be  admitted.  The  Matron  took  the  little  boy  on  her  lap, 
talked  to  him,  read  to  him,  showed  him  pictures  and  said  to  the 
astonished  parents,  "This  child  has  fully  as  much  intelligence  as 
any  of  your  other  children,  perhaps  more — but  he  is  deaf." 

ELBERT  HUBBARD. 

5.   Hamlet.    Hold  you  the  watch  to-night? 

All.  We  do,  my  lord. 

Ham.    Arm'd,  say  you? 

All.  Arm'd,  my  lord. 

Ham.  From  top  to  toe? 

All.    My  lord,  from  head  to  foot. 

Ham.  Then  saw  you  not  his  face? 

Hor.    0,  yes,  my  lord;  he  wore  his  beaver  up. 

Ham.    What,  looked  he  frowningly? 

Hor.  A  countenance  more  in  sorrow  than  in  anger. 

Ham.  Pale,  or  red? 

Hor.    Nay,  very  pale. 

Ham.  And  fix'd  his  eyes  upon  you? 

Hor.    Most  constantly. 

Ham.  I  would  I  had  been  there. 

Hor.    It  would  have  much  amaz'd  you. 

Ham.    Very  like,  very  like:     Stay'd  it  long? 

Hor.     While  one  with  moderate  haste  might  tell  a  hundred. 

Ham.    His  beard  was  grizzl'd,  no? 


150  HOW  TO  SPEAK  IN  PUBLIC 

Hor.    It  was,  as  I  have  seen  it  in  his  life,  a  sable-silvered. 
Ham.     I  will  watch  to-night,  perchance  'twill  walk  again. 

SHAKESPEARE. 

6.  One  hot  day  last  summer,  a  young  man  dressed  in  thin 
clothes,  entered  a  Broadway  car,  and  seating  himself  opposite 
a  stout  old  gentleman,  said,  pleasantly: 

"Pretty  warm,  isn't  it?" 

"What's  pretty  warm?" 

"Why,  the  weather." 

"What  weather?" 

"Why  this  weather." 

"Well,  how's  this  different  from  any  other  weather?" 

"Well,  it  is  warmer." 

"How  do  you  know  it  is?" 

"I  suppose  it  is." 

"Isn't  the  weather  the  same  everywhere?" 

"Why,  no, — no;  it's  warmer  in  some  places  and  colder  in 
others." 

"What  makes  it  warmer  in  some  places  than  it's  colder  in 
others?" 

"Why,  the  sun,— the  effect  of  the  sun's  heat." 

"Makes  it  colder  in  some  places  than  it's  warmer  in  others? 
Never  heard  of  such  a  thing." 

"No,  no,  no.    I  didn't  mean  that.    The  sun  makes  it  warmer." 

"Then  what  makes  it  colder?" 

"I  believe  it's  the  ice." 

"What  ice?" 

"Why,  the  ice, — the  ice, — the  ice  that  was  frozen  by — by — by 
the  frost." 

"Have  you  ever  seen  any  ice  that  wasn't  frozen?" 

"No,— that  is,  I  believe  I  have." 

"Then  what  are  you  talking  about?" 

"I  was  just  trying  to  talk  about  the  weather." 

"And  what  do  you  know  about  it, — what  do  you  kn~v  n1  ' 
the  weather?" 

"Well,  I  thought  I  knew  something,  but  I  see  I  don't   ; 
that's  a  fact." 


SIMPLICITY  151 

"No,  sir,  I  should  say  you  didn't!  Yet  you  come  into  this 
car  and  force  yourself  upon  the  attention  of  a  stranger  and 
begin  to  talk  about  the  weather  just  as  though  you  owned 
it,  and  I  find  you  don't  know  a  solitary  thing  about  the  matter 
you  yourself  selected  for  a  topic  of  conversation.  You  don't  know 
one  thing  about  meteorological  conditions,  principles,  or  phe- 
nomena; you  can't  tell  me  why  it  is  warm  in  August  and  cold 
in  December;  you  don't  know  why  icicles  form  faster  in  the  sun- 
light than  they  do  in  the  shade;  you  don't  know  why  the  earth 
grows  colder  as  it  comes  nearer  the  sun ;  you  can't  tell  why  a  man 
can  be  sun-struck  in  the  shade;  you  can't  tell  me  how  a  cyclone 
is  formed  nor  how  the  trade  winds  blow;  you  couldn't  find  the 
calm-center  of  a  storm  if  your  life  depended  on  it;  you  don't 
know  what  a  sirocco  is  nor  where  the  south-west  monsoon  blows; 
you  don't  know  the  average  rain-fall  in  the  United  States  for 
the  past  and  current  year;  you  don't  know  why  the  wind  dries 
up  the  ground  more  quickly  than  a  hot  sun;  you  don't  know  why 
the  dew  falls  at  night  and  dries  up  in  the  day;  you  can't  explain 
the  formation  of  fog;  you  don't  know  one  solitary  thing  about 
the  weather  and  you  are  just  like  a  thousand  and  one  other 
people  who  always  begin  talking  about  the  weather  because  they 
don't  know  anything  else,  when  by  the  Aurora  Borealis,  they 
know  less  about  the  weather  than  they  do  about  anything  else 
in  the  world,  sir!" 

"The  Weather  Fiend."  ANON. 


SIMPLICITY 

Simplicity  is  characteristic  of  all  great  art.  In  oratory 
it  has  taken  the  place  of  the  bombast  and  artificial  method 
of  former  times,  while  in  dramatic  art  it  has  superseded 
the  "old  school"  style  of  ranting  and  wild  gesticulation. 

Charles  Wagner  acknowledges  the  difficulty  in  adequately 
describing  this  quality  and  despairs  of  ever  doing  so  in 
any  worthy  fashion.  "All  the  strength  of  the  world  and 
all  its  beauty,"  he  says,  "all  true  joy,  everything  that  con- 


152  HOW  TO  SPEAK  IN  PUBLIC 

soles,  that  feeds  hope,  or  throws  a  ray  of  light  along  our 
dark  paths,  everything  that  makes  us  see  across  our  poor 
lives  a  splendid  goal  and  a  boundless  future,  comes  to  us 
from  people  of  simplicity,  those  who  have  made  another 
object  of  their  desires  than  the  passing  satisfaction  of  sel- 
fishness and  vanity;  and  have  understood  that  the  art  of 
living  is  to  know  how  to  give  one's  life." 

Simplicity  does  not  mean  repression,  but  the  intelligent 
use  of  all  the  forces  of  expression  in  sincere,  direct,  and 
spontaneous  effort  If  the  student  earnestly  seeks  the  truth 
and  his  thinking  is  genuine,  the  expression  will  be  free  from 
affectation  and  unnaturalness. 

The  following  examples  are  selected  for  this  quality  of 
simplicity : 


EXAMPLES 

1.  A  certain  nobleman  had  a  spacious  garden  which  he  left 
to  the  care  of  a  faithful  servant,  whose  delight  it  was  to  trail 
the  creepers  along  the  trellis,  to  water  the  seeds  in  time  of  drought, 
to  support  the  stalks  of  the  tender  plants,  and  to  do  every  work 
which  could  render  the  garden  a  paradise  of  flowers.  One  morn- 
ing the  servant  rose  with  joy,  expecting  to  tend  his  beloved 
flowers,  and  hoping  to  find  his  favorites  increased  in  beauty. 
To  his  surprise,  he  found  one  of  his  choicest  beauties  rent  from 
the  stem.  Full  of  grief  and  anger,  he  hurried  to  his  fellow  ser- 
vants and  demanded  who  had  robbed  him  of  his  treasure.  They 
had  not  done  it,  and  he  did  not  charge  them  with  it,  but  he  found 
no  solace  for  his  grief  till  one  of  them  remarked,  "My  lord  was 
walking  in  the  garden  this  morning,  and  I  saw  him  pluck  the 
flower  and  carry  it  away."  Then,  truly,  the  gardener  found  he 
had  no  cause  for  his  trouble.  He  felt  that  it  was  well  his  master 
had  been  pleased  to  take  his  own;  and  he  went  away  smiling  at 
his  loss,  because  his  lord  had  taken  delight  in  the  flowers. 

"Funeral  Sermon."  SPURGEON. 


SIMPLICITY  153 

2.  Be  simple,  unaffected;  be  honest  in  your  speaking  and  wri- 
ting. Never  use  a  long  word  when  a  short  one  will  do.  Do  not 
call  a  spade  a  well-known  oblong  instrument  of  manual  industry; 
let  a  house  be  a  house,  not  a  residence;  a  place  a  place,  not  a 
locality,  and  so  of  the  rest.  Where  a  short  word  will  do,  you 
always  lose  by  using  a  long  one.  You  lose  in  clearness,  you  lose 
in  honest  expression  of  your  meaning;  and  in  the  estimation  of 
all  men  who  are  competent  to  judge,  you  lose  in  reputation  for 
ability. 

WILLIAM  CULLEN  BRYANT. 

3.    A  spindle  of  hazelwood  had  I; 

Into  the  mill-stream  it  fell  one  day — 

The  water  has  brought  it  me  back  no  more. 

As  he  lay  a-dying,  the  soldier  spake: 

"I  am  content! 

Let  my  mother  be  told  in  the  village  there, 
And  my  bride  in  the  hut  be  told, 
That  they  must  pray  with  folded  hands, 

With  folded  hands  for  me." 
The  soldier  is  dead — and  with  folded  hands, 

His  bride  and  his  mother  pray. 
On  the  field  of  battle  they  dug  his  grave, 
And  red  with  his  life-blood  the  earth  was  dyed, 

The  earth  they  laid  him  in. 
The  sun  looked  down  on  him  there  and  spake: 
"I  am  content." 

And  flowers  bloomed  thickly  upon  his  grave, 

And  were  glad  they  blossomed  there. 
And  when  the  wind  in  the  tree-tops  roared, 
The  soldier  asked  from  the  deep,  dark  grave: 

"Did  the  banner  flutter  then?" 
"Not  so,  my  hero,"  the  wind  replied, 
"The  fight  is  done,  but  the  banner  won, 
Thy  comrades  of  old  have  borne  it  hence, 

Have  borne  it  in  triumph  hence." 
Then  the  soldier  spake  from  the  deep,  dark  grave : 
"I  am  content." 


154  HOW  TO  SPEAK  IN  PUBLIC 

And  again  he  heard  the  shepherds  pass 

And  the  flocks  go  wand'ring  by, 
And  the  soldier  asked :  "Is  the  sound  I  hear, 

The  sound  of  the  battle's  roar?" 
And  they  all  replied:  "My  hero,  nay! 
Thou  art  dead  and  the  fight  is  o'er, 
Our  country  joyful  and  free." 
Then  the  soldier  spake  from  the  deep,  dark  grave : 
"I  am  content." 

Then  he  heareth  the  lovers,  laughing,  pass, 

And  the  soldier  asks  once  more: 
"Are  these  not  the  voices  of  them  that  love, 

That  love — and  remember  me?" 
"Not  so,  my  hero,"  the  lovers  say, 
"We  are  those  that  remember  not; 
For  the  spring  has  come  and  the  earth  has  smiled, 

And  the  dead  must  be  forgot." 
Then  the  soldier  spake  from  the  deep,  dark  grave: 
"I  am  content." 

A  spindle  of  hazelwood  had  I; 

Into  the  mill-stream  it  fell  one  day — 

The  water  has  brought  it  me  back  no  more. 

"Bard  of  Dimbovitza."  Translated  by  CARMEN  SYLVA. 

4.  He  faced  his  audience  with  a  tranquil  mien,  and  a  beaming 
aspect  that  was  never  dimmed.  He  spoke,  and  in  the  measured 
cadence  of  his  quiet  voice  there  was  intense  feeling,  but  no  dec- 
lamation, no  passionate  appeal,  no  superficial  and  feigned  emo- 
tion. It  was  simple  colloquy — a  gentleman  conversing.  How 
was  it  done?  Ah!  how  did  Mozart  do  it — how  Raphael?  The 
secret  of  the  rose's  sweetness,  of  the  bird's  ecstasy,  of  the  sun- 
set's glory — that  is  the  secret  of  genius  and  eloquence.  What  was 
heard,  what  was  seen,  was  the  form  of  noble  manhood,  the  cour- 
teous and  self-possessed  tone,  the  flow  of  modulated  speech, 
sparkling  with  matchless  richness  of  illustration,  with  apt  allu- 


SIMPLICITY  155 

sion,  and  happy  anecdote,  and  historic  parallel,  with  wit  and  piti- 
less invective,  with  melodious  pathos,  with  stinging  satire,  with 
crackling  epigram,  and  limpid  humor,  like  the  bright  ripples  that 
play  around  the  sure  and  steady  prow  of  the  resistless  ship. 
Like  an  illuminated  vase  of  odors,  he  glowed  with  concentrated 
and  perfumed  fire.  The  divine  energy  of  his  conviction  utterly 
possessed  him,  and  his 

"Pure  and  eloquent  blood 

Spoke  in  his  cheek,  and  so  distinctly  wrought, 
That  one  might  almost  say  his  body  thought." 

Was  it  Pericles  swaying  the  Athenian  multitude?  Was  it 
Apollo  breathing  the  music  of  the  morning  from  his  lips?  It 
was  an  American  patriot,  a  modern  son  of  liberty,  with  a  soul 
as  firm  and  as  true  as  was  ever  consecrated  to  unselfish  duty, 
pleading  with  the  American  conscience  for  the  chained  and 
speechless  victims  of  American  inhumanity. 

"Wendell  Phillips."  GEORGE  WILLIAM  CURTIS. 

5.  Now  Love  is  the  remedy,  the  great  sweetener  of  the  mind 
and  body.     It  produces  harmony,  and  harmony  is  equilibrium — 
health. 

This  must  first  be  established  in  the  mind  through  belief  and 
trust  in  the  Infinite  Love,  and  Omnipresent  Good,  then  the  prac- 
tise of  love  and  self-forgetfulness  toward  others. 

If  we  would  attract  love  to  ourselves,  we  must  feel  it  for 
others,  and  make  ourselves  lovable;  and  that  should  be  our  whole 
concern,  to  love  more  and  more,  and  think  less  and  less  of  self; 
then  we  will  grow  sweet  and  wholesome,  and  fragrant  as  a 
flower.  The  blood  will  be  pure  and  rich,  and  filled  with  vitality, 
and,  in  short,  all  things  will  become  new,  for  the  former  things 
will  have  passed  away. 

"Spiritual  Realizations"  FLORENCE  WILLARD  DAY. 

6.  And  seeing  the  multitudes,  he  went  up  into  the  mountain: 
and  when  he  had  sat  down,  his  disciples  came  unto  him:  and  he 
opened  his  mouth  and  taught  them,  saying, 


156  HOW  TO  SPEAK  IN  PUBLIC 

Blessed  are  the  poor  in  spirit:  for  theirs  is  the  kingdom  of 
heaven. 

Blessed  are  they  that  mourn:  for  they  shall  be  comforted. 

Blessed  are  the  meek :  for  they  shall  inherit  the  earth. 

Blessed  are  they  that  hunger  and  thirst  after  righteousness: 
for  they  shall  be  filled. 

Blessed  are  the  merciful:  for  they  shall  obtain  mercy. 

Blessed  are  the  pure  in  heart :   for  they  shall  see  God. 

Blessed  are  the  peacemakers:  for  they  shall  be  called  sons  of 
God. 

Blessed  are  they  that  have  been  persecuted  for  righteousness' 
sake:  for  theirs  is  the  kingdom  of  heaven.  Blessed  are  ye  when 
men  shall  reproach  you,  and  persecute  you,  and  say  all  manner 
of  evil  against  you  falsely,  for  my  sake.  Rejoice,  and  be  ex- 
ceeding glad :  for  great  is  your  reward  in  heaven :  for  so  perse- 
cuted they  the  prophets  that  were  before  you. 

"St.  Matthew,  5."  THE  BIBLE. 


SINCERITY 

If  the  speaker  fulfils  all  the  requirements  of  simplicity, 
there  will  be  little  question  as  to  his  sincerity.  One  is 
hardly  possible  without  the  other.  Sincerity  like  simplic- 
ity demands  honesty  of  mind  and  intention,  as  well  as 
frankness  and  uprightness  of  character. 

1.  I  venture  to  prophesy,  there  are  those  now  living  who  will 
see  this  favored  land  amongst  the  most  powerful  on  earth.  . 

.     But,  sir,  you  must  have  men;  you  cannot  get  along  with- 
out them Do  you  ask  how  you  are  to  get  them? 

Open  your  doors,  sir,  and  they  will  come  in !  The  population  of 
the  Old  World  is  full  to  overflowing.  That  population  is  ground, 
too,  by  the  oppressions  of  the  governments  under  which  they  live. 
Sir,  they  are  already  standing  on  tiptoe  upon  their  native  shores, 
and  looking  to  your  coasts  with  a  wistful  and  longing  eye.  They 
see  here  a  land  blessed  with  natural  and  political  advantages, 


SINCERITY  157 

which  are  not  equaled  by  those  of  any  other  country  upon  earth; 
— a  land  on  which  a  gracious  Providence  hath  emptied  a  horn  of 
abundance, — a  land  over  which  Peace  hath  now  stretched  forth 
her  white  wings,  and  where  content  and  plenty  lie  down  at 
every  door !  Sir,  they  see  something  more  attractive  than  all  this. 
They  see  a  land  in  which  Liberty  hath  taken  up  her  abode — that 
Liberty  whom  they  had  considered  as  a  fabled  goddess,  existing 
only  in  the  fancies  of  the  poets.  They  see  her  here  a  real  di- 
vinity, her  altars  rising  on  every  hand  throughout  these  happy 
States;  her  glories  chanted  by  three  millions  of  tongues,  and  the 
whole  region  smiling  under  her  blessed  influence.  Sir,  let  but 
this,  our  celestial  goddess,  Liberty,  stretch  forth  her  fair  hand 
toward  the  people  of  the  Old  World, — tell  them  to  come  and  bid 
them  welcome,  and  you  will  see  them  pouring  in  from  the  North, 
from  the  South,  from  the  East,  and  from  the  West.  Your  wilder- 
ness will  be  cleared  and  settled,  your  deserts  will  smile,  your  ranks 
will  be  filled,  and  you  will  soon  be  in  a  condition  to  defy  the 
powers  of  any  adversary.  PATRICK  HENRY. 

2.  Truth !  friendship !  my  country  I  sacred  objects,  sentiments 
dear  to  my  heart,  accept  my  last  sacrifice.  My  life  was  devoted 
to  you,  and  you  will  render  my  death  easy  and  glorious. 

Just  Heaven !  enlighten  this  unfortunate  people  for  whom  I 
desired  liberty  ....  Liberty!  It  is  for  noble  minds,  who 
despise  death,  and  who  know  how  upon  occasions  to  give  it  to 
themselves.  It  is  not  for  weak  beings  who  enter  into  a  composi- 
tion with  guilt,  and  cover  selfishness  and  cowardice  with  the  name 
of  prudence.  It  is  not  for  corrupt  wretches  who  rise  from  the 
bed  of  debauchery,  or  from  the  mire  of  indigence,  to  feast  their 
eyes  on  the  blood  that  streams  from  the  scaffold.  It  is  the  portion 
of  a  people  who  delight  in  humanity,  practise  justice,  despise 
their  flatterers,  and  respect  the  truth.  While  you  are  not  such 
a  people,  oh,  my  fellow  citizens,  you  will  talk  in  vain  of  liberty. 
Instead  of  liberty  you  will  have  licentiousness,  of  which  you  will 
all  fall  victims  in  your  turns.  You  will  ask  for  bread ;  dead  bodies 
will  be  given  you ;  and  you  will  at  last  bow  down  your  necks  to 
the  yoke. 

I  have  neither  concealed  my  sentiments  nor  my  opinions.  I 
know  that  a  Roman  lady  was  sent  to  the  scaffold  for  lamenting 


158  HOW  TO  SPEAK  IN  PUBLIC 

the  death  of  her  son.  I  know  that  in  times  of  delusion  and  party 
rage,  he  who  dares  avow  himself  the  friend  of  the  condemned  or 
of  the  proscribed  exposes  himself  to  their  fate.  But  I  despise 
death;  I  never  feared  anything  but  guilt,  and  I  will  not  purchase 
life  at  the  expense  of  a  base  subterfuge.  Woe  to  the  tunes!  woe 
to  the  people  among  whom  doing  homage  to  disregarded  truth 
is  attended  with  danger,  and  happy  he  who  in  such  circumstances 
is  bold  enough  to  brave  it ! 
"Last  Thoughts."  MADAME  ROLAND. 

3.  I  have  little  to  recommend  my  opinions  but  long  observation 
and  much  impartiality.  They  come  from  one  who  has  been  no 
tool  of  power,  no  flatterer  of  greatness,  and  who  in  his  last  acts 
does  not  wish  to  belie  the  tenor  of  his  life.  They  come  from  one 
almost  the  whole  of  whose  public  exertion  has  been  a  struggle 
for  the  liberty  of  others;  from  one  in  whose  breast  no  anger 
durable  or  vehement  has  ever  been  kindled,  but  by  what  he  con- 
sidered as  tyranny;  and  who  snatches  from  his  share  in  the  en- 
deavors which  are  used  by  good  men  to  discredit  opulent  oppres- 
sion the  hours  he  has  employed  on  your  affairs,  and  who,  in  so 
doing,  persuades  himself  he  has  not  departed  from  his  usual 
offices.  They  come  from  one  who  desires  honors,  distinctions, 
and  emoluments  but  little,  and  who  expects  them  not  at  all;  who 
has  no  contempt  for  fame,  and  no  fear  of  obloquy;  who  shuns 
contention,  though  he  will  hazard  an  opinion;  from  one  who 
wishes  to  preserve  consistency  by  varying  his  means  to  secure 
the  unity  of  his  end;  and,  when  the  equipoise  of  the  vessel  in 
which  he  sails  may  be  endangered  by  overloading  it  upon  one 
side,  is  desirous  of  carrying  the  small  weight  of  his  reasons  to 
that  which  may  preserve  its  equipoise. 

"Reflections  on  the  Revolution  in  France"     EDMUND  BURKE. 

4.    0  Captain !  my  Captain !  our  fearful  trip  is  done ; 

The  ship  has  weathered  every  rack,  the  prize  we  sought  is  won ; 
The  port  is  near,  the  bells  I  hear,  the  people  all  exulting, 
While  follow  eyes  the  steady  keel,  the  vessel  grim  and  daring; 
But,  0  heart !  heart !  heart !  0  the  bleeding  drops  of  red, 
Where  on  the  deck  my  Captain  lies,  fallen,  cold  and  dead. 


AIM  AND  PURPOSE  159 

0  Captain  !  my  Captain !  rise  up  and  hear  the  bells ; 

Rise  up — for  you  the  flag  is  flung — for  you  the  bugle  trills, 

For  you  bouquets  and  ribbon'd  wreaths — for  you  the  shores 

a-crowding ; 

For  you  they  call,  the  swaying  mass,  their  eager  faces  turning ; 
Here  Captain !  dear  father !  this  arm  beneath  your  head ! 
It  is  some  dream  that  on  the  deck,  you've  fallen  cold  and  dead. 

My  Captain  does  not  answer,  his  lips  are  pale  and  still ; 
My  Captain  does  not  feel  my  arm,  he  has  no  pulse  nor  will ; 
The  ship  is  anchored  safe  and  sound,  its  voyage  is  closed  and 

done; 

From  fearful  trip  the  victor  ship  comes  in  with  object  won; 
Exult,  0  shores,  and  ring,  0  bells !  but  I  with  mournful  tread 
Walk  the  deck  my  Captain  lies,  fallen  cold  and  dead. 
"On  Lincoln."  WALT  WHITMAN. 


AIM  AND  PURPOSE 

In  all  successful  oratory  there  must  be  a  clearly  defined 
aim  and  purpose.  The  speaker  should  endeavor  to  find  out 
where  his  special  power  lies  and  work  in  that  direction,  al- 
ways remembering  that  the  loftier  the  aim  the  greater  the 
possible  achievement.  Beecher  said:  "Let  no  man  who  is 
a  sneak  try  to  be  an  orator. ' '  There  must  be  intrinsic  worth. 
A  man  must  be  and  not  seem.  An  audience  can  not  long  be 
deceived.  The  speaker  will  shortly  be  estimated  at  his  true 
value.  The  development  of  the  sympathetic  nature  should 
not  be  neglected.  The  transforming  power  of  deep  affec- 
tion is  described  by  Balzac,  when  he  says  of  Pere  Goriot,, 
"Pere  Goriot  was  stirred  out  of  himself.  Never  till  now 
had  Eugene  seen  him  thus  lighted  up  by  the  passion  of 
paternity.  We  may  here  remark  on  the  infiltrating,  trans- 
forming power  of  an  over-mastering  emotion.  However 
coarse  the  fiber  of  the  individual,  let  him  be  held  by  a  strong 


160  HOW  TO  SPEAK  IN  PUBLIC 

and  genuine  affection,  and  he  exhales,  as  it  were,  an  essence 
which  illuminates  his  features,  inspires  his  gestures,  and 
gives  cadence  to  his  voice/' 

1.  And,  since  the  thoughts  and  reasonings  of  an  author  have, 
as  I  have  said,  a  personal  character,  no  wonder  that  his  style  is 
not  only  the  image  of  his  subject,  but  of  his  mind.     That  pomp 
of  language,   that   full   and  tuneful   diction,   that   felicitousness 
in  the  choice  and  exquisiteness  in  the  collocation  of  words,  which 
to  prosaic  writers  seem  artificial,  is  nothing  else  but  the  mere 
habit  and  way  of  a  lofty  intellect.    Aristotle,  in  his  sketch  of  the 
magnanimous  man,  tells  us  that  his  voice  is  deep,  his  motions 
slow,  and  his  stature  commanding.    In  like  manner,  the  elocution 
of  a  great  intellect  is  great.     His  language  expresses,  not  only 
his  great  thoughts,  but  his  great  self.     Certainly  he  might  use 
fewer  words  than  he  uses ;  but  he  fertilizes  his  simplest  ideas,  and 
germinates  into  a  multitude  of  details,  and  prolongs  the  march  of 
his  sentences,  and  sweeps  round  to  the  full  diapason  of  his  har- 
mony, rejoicing  in  his  own  vigor  and  richness  of  resource. 

CARDINAL  NEWMAN. 

2.  I  have  no  light  or  knowledge  not  common  to  my  country- 
men.   I  do  not  prophesy.    The  present  is  all-absorbing  to  me,  but 
I  cannot  bound  my  vision  by  the  blood-stained  trenches  around 
Manila,  where  every  red  drop,  whether  from  the  veins  of  an 
American  soldier  or  a  misguided  Filipino,  is  anguish  to  my  heart ; 
but  by  the  broad  range  of  future  years,  when  that  group  of 
islands,  under  the  impulse  of  the  year  just  past,  shall  have  become 
the  gems  and  glories  of  those  tropical  seas;  a  land  of  plenty  and 
of  increasing  possibilities;  a  people  redeemed  from  savage  in- 
dolence and  habits,  devoted  to  the  arts  of  peace,  in  touch  with  the 
commerce  and  trade  of  all  nations,  enjoying  the  blessings  of  free- 
dom, of  civil  and  religious  liberty,  of  education  and  of  homes, 
and  whose  children  and  children's  children  shall  for  ages  hence 
bless  the  American  Republic  because  it  emancipated  and  redeemed 
their  fatherland  and  set  them  in  the  pathway  of  the  world's  best 
civilization. 

"Our  Duty  to  the  Philippines."  WILLIAM  McKiNLEY. 


AIM  AND  PURPOSE  161 

3.    At  the  midnight  in  the  silence  of  the  sleep-time, 

When  you  set  your  fancies  free, 

Will  they  pass  to  where — by  death,  fools  think,  imprisoned — 
Low  he  lies  who  once  so  loved  you,  whom  you  loved  so, — Pity 
me? 

Oh,  to  love  so,  be  so  loved,  yet  so  mistaken! 

What  had  I  on  earth  to  do 
With  the  slothful,  with  the  mawkish,  the  unmanly? 

Like  the  aimless,  helpless,  hopeless,  did  I  drivel — Being — who  ? 

One  who  never  turned  his  back,  but  marched  breast  forward, 

Never  doubted  clouds  would  break, 
Never  dreamed,  tho  right  were  worsted,  wrong  would  triumph, 

Held  we  fall  to  rise,  are  baffled  to  fight  better,  Sleep  to  wake. 

No,  at  noonday  in  the  bustle  of  man's  work-time 

Greet  the  unseen  with  a  cheer ! 

Bid  him  forward,  breast  and  back  as  either  should  be, 
"Strive  and  thrive!"  cry  "Speed, — fight  on,  fare  ever  There 
as  here!" 

"Epilog."  BROWNING. 


4.  Insist  on  yourself;  never  imitate.  Your  own  gift  you  can 
present  every  moment  with  the  cumulative  force  of  a  whole  life's 
cultivation;  but  of  the  adopted  talent  of  another  you  have  only 
an  extemporaneous  half  possession.  That  which  each  can  do  best, 
none  but  his  Maker  can  teach  him.  No  man  yet  knows  what  it 
is,  nor  can,  till  that  person  has  exhibited  it.  Where  is  the  master 
who  could  have  taught  Shakespeare?  Where  is  the  master  who 
could  have  instructed  Franklin,  or  Washington,  or  Bacon,  or 
Newton  ?  Every  great  man  is  a  unique.  The  Scipionism  of  Scipio 
is  precisely  that  part  he  could  not  borrow.  Shakespeare  will 
never  be  made  by  the  study  of  Shakespeare.  Do  that  which  is 
assigned  you,  and  you  can  not  hope  too  much  or  dare  too  much. 
There  is  at  this  moment  for  you  an  utterance  brave  and  grand  as 
that  of  the  colossal  chisel  of  Phidias,  or  trowel  of  the  Egyptians, 


162  HOW  TO  SPEAK  IN  PUBLIC 

or  the  pen  of  Moses  or  Dante,  but  different  from  all  these. 
Not  possibly  will  the  soul,  all  rich,  all  eloquent,  with  thousand- 
cloven  tongue,  deign  to  repeat  itself;  but  if  you  can  hear  what 
these  patriarchs  say,  surely  you  can  reply  to  them  in  the  same 
pitch  of  voice;  for  the  ear  and  the  tongue  are  two  organs  of  one 
nature.  Abide  in  the  simple  and  noble  regions  of  thy  life,  obey 
thy  heart  and  thou  shalt  reproduce  the  Fore  world  again. 

"Self-reliance."  EMERSON. 

5.    Grow  old  along  with  me !  the  best  is  yet  to  be, 

The  last  of  life,  for  which  the  first  was  made : 
Our  times  are  in  His  hand  who  saith,  "A  whole  I  planned, 
Youth  shows  but  half;  trust  God:  see  all,  nor  be  afraid!" 


Then,  welcome  each  rebuff  that  turns  earth's  smoothness  rough, 
Each  sting  that  bids  nor  sit  nor  stand  but  go ! 

Be  our  joys  three  parts  pain:  strive  and  hold  cheap  the  strain; 
Learn,  nor  account  the  pang ;  dare,  never  grudge  the  throe ! 


So  take  and  use  Thy  work,  amend  what  flaws  may  lurk, 
What  strain  o'  the  stuff,  what  warpings  past  the  aim! 

My  times  be  in  Thy  hand !  perfect  the  cup  as  planned ! 
Let  age  approve  of  youth,  and  death  complete  the  same ! 

"Rabbi  Ben  Ezra."  BROWNING. 

6.  And  did  I  say,  my  friends,  that  I  was  unable  to  furnish  an 
entirely  satisfactory  answer  to  the  question,  in  what  the  true  ex- 
cellence of  the  character  of  Washington  consists?  Let  me  recall 
the  word  as  unjust  to  myself  and  unjust  to  you.  The  answer  is 
plain  and  simple  enough;  it  is  this,  that  all  the  great  qualities  of 
disposition  and  action,  which  so  eminently  fitted  him  for  the 
service  of  his  fellow  men,  were  founded  on  the  basis  "of  a  pure 
Christian  morality,  and  derived  their  strength  and  energy  from 


AIM  AND  PQRPOSE  163 

that  vital  source.  He  was  great  as  he  was  good;  and  I  believe, 
as  I  do  in  my  existence,  that  it  was  an  important  part  in  the 
design  of  Providence  in  raising  him  up  to  be  the  leader  of  the 
revolutionary  struggle,  and  afterwards  the  first  President  of  the 
United  States,  to  rebuke  prosperous  ambition  and  successful  in- 
trigue; to  set  before  the  people  of  America,  in  the  morning  of 
their  national  existence,  a  living  example  to  prove  that  armies 
may  be  best  conducted  and  governments  most  ably  and  honorably 
administered,  by  men  of  sound  moral  principle;  to  teach  to  gifted 
and  aspiring  individuals,  and  the  parties  they  lead,  that,  tho 
a  hundred  crooked  paths  may  conduct  to  a  temporary  success, 
the  one  plain  and  straight  path  of  public  and  private  virtue  can 
alone  lead  to  a  pure  and  lasting  fame  and  the  blessings  of 
posterity. 
"The  Character  of  Washington."  EDWARD  EVERETT. 


CHAPTER   XI 


CONFIDENCE 

A  resourceful  self-reliance  is  necessary  to  complete  con- 
fidence, timerson  says,  "Knowledge  is  the  antidote  to 
fear."  A  man  must  train  himself  to  be  equal  to  any 
emergency.  He  should  examine  himself,  thoroughly  prepare 
himself  and  make  up  his  mind  to  take  the  risk  of  failure 
if  necessary.  Successive  failures  should  be  an  incentive  to 
greater  effort.  Above  all  he  should  do  his  work  under  the 
immediate  inspiration  of  duty.  The  habit  of  clear  and 
deliberate  utterance  should  be  cultivated  both  in  conversa- 
tion and  public  address.  He  should  be  bold,  but  not  too 
bold.  More  failures  in  public  speaking  are  due  to  egotism 
than  to  anything  else.  The  first  possession  of  every  man 
should  be  self-possession,  and  this  can  best  be  acquired 
through  the  practise  of  concentration,  modesty  of  manner, 
thorough  preparation,  and  physical  earnestness. 


EXAMPLES 

1.  What,  my  lord,  shall  you  tell  me,  on  the  passage  to  the 
scaffold  which  that  tyranny,  of  which  you  are  only  the  intermediate 
minister,  has  erected  for  my  murder,  that  I  am  accountable  for 
all  the  blood  that  has  been  and  will  be  shed,  in  this  struggle  of 
the  oppressed  against  the  oppressor?  Shall  you  tell  me  this,  and 
must  I  be  so  very  a  slave  as  not  to  repel  it?  I,  who  fear  not  to 
approach  the  Omnipotent  Judge,  to  answer  for  the  conduct  of 
my  short  life, — am  I  to  be  appalled  here,  before  a  mere  remnant 

164 


CONFIDENCE  165 

of  mortality? — by  you,  too,  who,  if  it  were  possible  to  collect  all 
the  innocent  blood  that  you  have  caused  to  be  shed,  in  your  un- 
hallowed ministry,  in  one  great  reservoir,  your  lordship  might 
swim  in  it ! 

"On  Being  Found  Guilty  ROBERT  EMMET. 

of  High  Treason." 

2.  No  one  in  a  hurry  can  possibly  have  his  wits  about  him ; 
and  remember  that  in  law  there  is  ever  an  opponent  watching  to 
find  you  off  your  guard.  You  may  occasionally  be  in  haste,  but 
you  need  never  be  in  a  hurry;  take  care — resolve — never  to  be  so. 
Remember  always  that  others'  interests  are  occupying  your  atten- 
tion, and  suffer  by  your  inadvertence — by  that  negligence  which 
generally  occasions  hurry.  A  man  of  first-rate  business  talents — 
one  who  always  looks  so  calm  and  tranquil  that  it  makes  one's 
self  feel  cool  on  a  hot  summer's  day  to  look  at  him — once  told  me 
that  he  had  never  been  in  a  hurry  but  once,  and  that  was  for  an 
entire  fortnight  at  the  commencement  of  his  career.  It  nearly 
killed  him;  he  spoiled  everything  he  touched;  he  was  always 
breathless  and  harassed  and  miserable.  But  it  did  him  good  for 
life;  he  resolved  never  again  to  be  in  a  hurry — and  never  was, 
no,  not  once,  that  he  could  remember,  during  twenty-five  years' 
practise!  Observe,  I  speak  of  being  hurried  and  flustered — not 
being  in  haste,  for  that  is  often  inevitable;  but  then  is  always 
seen  the  superiority  and  inferiority  of  different  men.  You  may 
indeed  almost  define  hurry  as  the  condition  to  which  an  inferior 
man  is  reduced  by  haste.  I  one  day  observed,  in  a  committee  of 
the  House  of  Commons  sitting  on  a  railway  bill,  the  chief  secretary 
of  the  company,  during  several  hours,  while  great  interests  were 
in  jeopardy,  preserve  a  truly  admirable  coolness,  tranquillity,  and 
temper,  conferring  on  him  immense  advantages.  His  suggestions 
to  counsel  were  masterly,  and  exquisitely  well-timed;  and  by  the 
close  of  the  day  he  had  triumphed.  "How  is  it  that  one  never 
sees  you  in  a  hurry?"  said  I,  as  we  were  pacing  the  long  corridor, 
on  our  way  from  the  committee-room.  "Because  it's  so  expensive," 
he  replied,  with  a  significant  smile.  I  shall  never  forget  that 
observation;  and  don't  you. 

"Attorneys  and  Solicitors."  WARREN. 


166  HOW  TO  SPEAK  IN  PUBLIC 

3.  With  conscience  satisfied  with  the  discharge  of  duty,  no  con- 
sequences can  harm  you.  There  is  no  evil  that  we  cannot  either 
face  or  fly  from,  but  the  consciousness  of  duty  disregarded.  A 
sense  of  duty  pursues  us  ever.  It  is  omnipresent,  like  Deity. 
If  we  take  to  ourselves  the  wings  of  the  morning,  and  dwell  in 
the  uttermost  parts  of  the  sea,  duty  performed  or  duty  violated 
is  still  with  us,  for  our  happiness  or  for  our  misery.  If  we  say 
the  darkness  shall  cover  us,  in  the  darkness  as  in  the  light  our 
obligations  are  yet  with  us.  We  cannot  escape  their  power,  nor 
fly  from  their  presence.  They  are  with  us  in  this  life,  will  be 
with  us  at  its  close,  and  in  that  scene  of  inconceivable  solemnity, 
which  lies  yet  farther  onward,  we  shall  still  find  ourselves  sur- 
rounded by  the  consciousness  of  duty,  to  pain  us  whenever  it  has 
been  violated,  and  to  console  us  so  far  as  God  may  have  given  us 
grace  to  perform  it. 

"The  Knapp  Murder  Trial."  WEBSTER. 

4.   But  this  I  will  avow,  that  I  have  scorned, 
And  still  do  scorn,  to  hide  my  sense  of  wrong ! 
Who  brands  me  on  the  forehead,  breaks  my  sword, 
Or  lays  the  bloody  scourge  upon  my  back, 
Wrongs  me  not  half  so  much  as  he  who  shuts 
The  gates  of  honor  on  me, — turning  out 
The  Roman  from  his  birthright;  and,  for  whatT 
To  fling  your  offices  to  every  slave ! 
Vipers,  that  creep  where  man  disdains  to  climb, 
And,  having  wound  their  loathsome  track  to  the  top, 
Of  this  huge,  mouldering  monument  of  Rome, 
Hang  hissing  at  the  nobler  man  below ! 
"Catiline's  Defiance."  GEORGE  CROLY. 


EARNESTNESS 

Earnestness  is  the  natural  language  of  sincerity  and  high 
purpose.  It  manifests  itself  in  voice,  look,  andjjesture. 
It  is  the  result  of  deep  conviction,  sympathy,  self-abandon- 


EARNESTNESS  167 

ment,  and  a  heartfelt  desire  to  share  the  truth  with  others. 
The  act  of  standing  before  an  audience  should  kindle  the 
heart  and  imagination  of  any  speaker,  but  we  know  from 
observation  that  this  is  not  always  the  case.  Frequently 
an  audience  is  strange,  cold,  and  unresponsive,  but  here  the 
speaker  must  call  to  his  aid  the  power  of  self -excitation.  He 
must  have  faith  in  himself  and  in  his  message.  The  speaker 
should  realize  that  he  is,  to  quote  Nathan  Sheppard,  "An 
animal  galvanic  battery  on  two  legs!"  The  physical  ap- 
paratus should  be  so  trained  as  to  promptly  and  correctly 
respond  to  every  demand  made  upon  it. 

In  true  earnestness  there  is  no  place  for  violence  or  im- 
pulsiveness. All  must  be  well  considered.  Exaggerated 
shaking  of  the  head,  rolling  the  eyes,  twisting  and  contorting 
the  body,  meaningless  gesture, — all  are  to  be  studiously 
avoided.  In  the  early  stages  of  practising,  where  there  is 
a  lack  of  feeling,  it  may  for  a  time  be  assumed.  Sluggish 
emotions  can  in  this  way  be  aroused  and  subsequent  efforts 
will  become  less  and  less  difficult. 

Nothing  contributes  more  to  the  well-springs  of  genuine 
feeling  than  long  and  varied  experience  among  all  classes 
of  people.  To  accustom  oneself  to  sharing  the  joys  and 
sorrows,  the  hopes  and  fears,  of  others,  will  cultivate  the 
deepest  feelings  of  the  human  heart. 


1.  Let  our  object  be  our  country,  our  whole  country,  and 
nothing  but  our  country.  And,  by  the  blessing  of  God,  may  that* 
country  itself  become  a  vast  and  splendid  monument,  not  of  op- 
pression and  terror,  but  of  wisdom,  of  peace,  and  of  liberty,  upon 
which  the  world  may  gaze  with  admiration  forever! 

DANIEL  WEBSTER. 


168  HOW  TO  SPEAK  IN  PUBLIC 

2.  But  thou,  0  Florence,  take  the  offered  mercy.     See!  the 
cross  is  held  out  to  you;  come  and  be  healed.    Which  among  the 
nations  of  Italy  has  had  a  token  like  unto  yours?    The  tyrant  is 
driven  out  from  among  you;  the  men  who  held  a  bribe  in  their 
left  hand  and  a  rod  in  their  right,  are  gone  forth,  and  no  blood 
has  been  spilled.     And  now  put  away  every  other  abomination 
from  among  you,  and  you  shall  be  strong  in  the  strength  of  the 
living  God.     Wash  yourself  from  the  black  pitch  of  your  vices, 
which  have  made  you  even  as  the  heathens;  put  away  the  envy 
and  hatred  that  have  made  your  city  as  a  nest  of  wolves.     And 
there  shall  no  harm  happen  to  you;  and  the  passage  of  armies 
shall  be  to  you  as  the  flight  of  birds,  and  rebellious  Pisa  shall  be 
given  to  you  again,  and  famine  and  pestilence  shall  be  far  from 
your  gates,  and  you  shall  be  as  a  beacon  among  the  nations.    But, 
mark !  while  you  suffer  the  accursed  thing  to  lie  in  the  camp,  you 
shall  be  afflicted  and  tormented,  even  tho  a  remnant  among  you 
may  be  saved. 

Savonarola  in  "Romola."  GEORGE  ELIOT. 

3.  Fourscore  and  seven  years  ago,  our  fathers  brought  forth 
upon  this  continent  a  new-  nation,  conceived  in  liberty  and  ded- 
icated to  the  proposition  that  all  men  are  created  equal.     Now 
we  are  engaged  in  a  great  civil  war,  testing  whether  that  nation — 
or  any  nation  so  conceived  and  so  dedicated — can  long  endure. 

We  are  met  on  a  great  battle-field  of  that  war.  We  are  met 
to  dedicate  a  portion  of  it  as  the  final  resting-place  of  those  who 
have  given  their  lives  that  that  nation  might  live.  It  is  altogether 
fitting  and  proper  that  we  should  do  this. 

But,  in  a  larger  sense,  we  cannot  dedicate,  we  cannot  consecrate, 
we  cannot  hallow,  this  ground.  The  brave  men,  living  and  dead, 
who  struggled  here,  have  consecrated  it,  far  above  our  power  to 
add  or  to  detract.  The  world  will  very  little  note  nor  long  re- 
member what  we  say  here;  but  it  can  never  forget  what  they  did 
here. 

It  is  for  us,  the  living,  rather,  to  be  dedicated  here,  to  the  un- 
finished work  they  have  thus  far  so  nobly  earned  on.  It  is  rather 
for  us  to  be  here  dedicated  to  the  great  task  remaining  before  us; 
that  from  these  honored  dead  we  take  increased  devotion  to  that 


EARNESTNESS  169 

cause  for  wHich  they  here  gave  the  last  full  measure  of  devotion; 
that  we  here  highly  resolve  that  these  dead  shall  not  have  died 
in  vain;  that  the  nation  shall,  under  God,  have  a  new  birth  of 
freedom,  and  that  government  of  the  people,  by  the  people,  and 
for  the  people,  shall  not  perish  from  the  earth. 

At  the  Dedication  of  Gettysburg  Cemetery.  LINCOLN. 


4.  Straightway  Virginius  led  the  maid  a  little  space  aside, 

To  where  the  reeking  shambles  stood,  piled  up  with  .horn  and 

hide. 

Hard'by,  a  butcher  on  a  block  had  laid  his  whittle  down, — 
Virginius  caught  the  whittle  up,  and  hid  it  in  his  gown. 
And  then  his  eyes  grew  very  dim,  and  his  throat  began  to  swell, 
And  in  a  hoarse,  changed  voice  he  spake,  "Farewell,  sweet  child, 

farewell ! 

The  house  that  was  the  happiest  within  the  Roman  walls, — 
The  house  that  envied  not  the  wealth  of  Capua's  marble  halls, 
Now,  for  the  brightness  of  thy  smile,  must  have  eternal  gloom, 
And  for  the  music  of  thy  voice,  the  silence  of  the  tomb. 

"The  time  is  come.    The  tyrant  points  his  eager  hand  this  way; 
See  how  his  eyes  gloat  on  thy  grief,  like  a  kite's  upon  the  prey; 
With  all  his  wit  he  little  deems  that,  spurned,  betrayed,  bereft, 
Thy  father  hath,  in  his  despair,  one  fearful  refuge  left ; 
He  little  deems  that,  in  this  hand,  I  clutch  what  still  can  save 
Thy  gentle  youth  from  taunts  and  blows,  the  portion  of  the 

slave ; 

Yea,  and  from  nameless  evil,  that  passeth  taunt  and  blow, — 
Foul  outrage,  which  thou  knowest  not, — which  thou  shalt  never 

know. 
Then  clasp  me  round  the  neck  once  more,  and  .give  me  one  more 

kiss; 

And  now,  mine  own  dear  little  girl,  there  is  no  way  but  this !" 
With  that  he  lifted  high  the  steel,  and  smote  her  in  the  side, 
And  in  her  blood  she  sank  to  earth,  and  with  one  sob  she  died. 
Then,  for  a  little  moment,  all  the  people  held  their  breath ; 
And  through  the  crowded  forum  was  stillness  as  of  death; 


170  HOW  TO  SPEAK  IN  PUBLIC 

And  in  another  moment  broke  forth  from  one  and  all 

A  cry  as  if  the  Volscians  were  coming  o'er  the  wall ; 

Till,  with  white  lips  and  bloodshot  eyes,  Virginius  tottered  nigh, 

And  stood  before  the  judgment  seat,  and  held  the  knife  on  high : 

"0  dwellers  in  the  nether  gloom,  avengers  of  the  slain, 

By  this  dear  blood  I  cry  to  you,  do  right  between  us  twain ; 

And  e'en  as  Appius  Claudius  has  dealt  by  me  and  mine, 

Deal  you  by  Appius  Claudius  and  all  the  Claudian  line !" 

So  spake  the  slayer  of  his  child ;  then  where  the  body  lay, 

Pausing,  he  cast  one  haggard  glance,  and  turned  and  went  his 

way. 

Then  up  sprang  Appius  Claudius :  "Stop  him,  alive  or  dead ! 
Ten  thousand  pounds  of  copper  to  the  man  who  brings  his 

head!" 

He  looked  upon  his  clients,  but  none  would  work  his  will; 
He  looked  upon  his  lictors,  but  they  trembled  and  stood  still. 
And  as  Virginius  through  the  press  his  way  in  silence  cleft, 
Ever  the  mighty  multitude  fell  back  to  right  and  left ; 
And  he  hath  passed  in  safety  unto  his  wof ul  home, 
And  there  ta'en  horse,  to  tell  the  camp  what  deeds  are  done  in 

Rome. 
"Virginius."  MACAULAY. 

5.  The  day  returns  and  brings  us  the  petty  round  of  irritating 
concerns  and  duties.  Help  us  to  perform  them  with  laughter  and 
kind  faces;  help  us  to  play  the  man,  let  cheerfulness  abound  with 
industry.  Give  us  to  go  blithely  on  our  business  all  this  day, 
bring  us  to  our  resting  beds'weary  and  content  and  undishonored ; 
and  grant  us  in  the  end  the  gift  of  sleep. 

"A  Morning  Prayer."  ROBERT  Louis  STEVENSON. 


THE  EMOTIONS 

It  is  neither  desirable  nor  possible  to  lay  down  arbitrary 
rules  for  expressing  emotion,  since  people  express  their 
feelings  according  to  individual  temperament  and  circum- 


THE  EMOTIONS  171 

stances.     Some   general   considerations,   however,   will  be 
helpful. 

In  love,  sympathy,  devotion,  and  kindred  feelings,  the 
voice  is  usually  inclined  to  high  pitch,  the  eyes  have  a  gentle 
luster,  and  a  smile  plays  about  the  lips.  In  gravity  the  eye- 
brows are  lowered,  the  lips  shut  firmly  and  the  eyes  ap- 
parently rest  on  vacancy.  Surprise,  wonder,  and  amaze- 
ment are  indicated  by  elevated  eyebrows,  open  eyes  and 
mouth,  and  aspirated  voice.  In  tranquillity,  the  eyes  are 
mild,  the  face  composed,  and  the  body  in  repose.  In  anxiety, 
dejection,  and  grief,  there  is  a  downward  contraction  of  the 
facial  muscles  and  relaxation  of  the  body.  In  sorrow  and 
grief  the  corners  of  the  mouth  are  drawn  down.  Violent 
grief  often  vents  itself  in  beating  the  head  with  the  hands, 
stamping  the  feet,  and  running  about  distracted.  In  fear 
the  voice  is  weak  and  trembling,  the  lips,  face  and  body 
shake,  and  the  heart  beats  violently.  Shyness  is  indicated 
by  side  glances.  Pride  is  manifest  in  a  lofty  look,  erect 
head,  firm  body,  open  eyes,  and  sometimes  with  lower  lip 
protruded.  In  courage  the  figure  is  erect  and  free  in  its 
movements,  and  the  voice  full  and  firm. 


EXAMPLES 

ADMIRATION 

What  a  piece  of  work  is  man !  How  noble  in  reason !  how  in- 
finite in  faculty !  in  form  and  moving  how  express  and  admirable ! 
in  action  how  like  an  angel !  in  apprehension  how  like  a  god !_  the 
beauty  of  the  world!  the  paragon  of  animals! 

"Hamlet."  SHAKESPEARE. 


172  HOW  TO  SPEAK  IN  PUBLIC 

ADMONITION 

Remember  March,  the  Ides  of  March  remember! 
Did  not  great  Julius  bleed  for  justice'  sake? 
What  villain  touch'd  his  body,  that  did  stab, 
And  not  for  justice?    What!  shall  one  of  us, 
That  struck  the  foremost  man  of  all  this  world, 
But  for  supporting  robbers;  shall  we  now 
Contaminate  our  fingers  with  base  bribes; 
And  sell  the  mighty  space  of  our  large  honors 
For  so  much  trash  as  may  be  grasped  thus? 

"Julius  Casar."  SHAKESPEARE. 

ANGER 

And  dar'st  thou,  then,  to  beard  the  lion  in  his  den, 

The  Douglas  in  his  hall? 

And  hop'st  thou  hence  unscathed  to  go? 

No !  by  Saint  Bride  of  Bothwell,  no ! 

"Marmion."  SCOTT. 

APPEAL 

Arthur.    Oh,  save  me,  Hubert,  save  me !  my  eyes  are  out, 
Even  with  the  fierce  looks  of  these  bloody  men ! 

"King  John"  SHAKESPEARE. 

AWE 

Night,  sable  goddess !  from  her  ebon  throne, 
In  rayless  majesty,  now  stretches  forth 
Her  leaden  scepter  o'er  a  slumbering  world. 
Silence  how  dead !  and  darkness  how  profound ! 
Nor  eye  nor  listening  ear  an  object  finds. 
Creation  sleeps.    'Tis  as  the  general  pulse 
Of  life  stood  still,  and  nature  made  a  pause, — 
An  awful  pause,  prophetic  of  her  end. 

"Night  Thoughts."  YOUNG. 


THE  EMOTIONS  173 

COMMAND 

"Halt!" — the  dust-brown  ranks  stood  fast; 
"Fire!"— out  blazed  the  rifle-blast. 

"Barbara  Frietchie."  WHITTIER. 

COURAGE 

He  shuddered,  set  teeth,  kept  silence. 

Without  a  reproach  or  cry 
The  women  were  slain  before  him, 

And  he  stood  and  he  saw  them  die. 

"The  Ballad  of  Splendid  Silence."  NESBIT. 

COWARDICE 

Acres.    No,  I  say — we  won't  run  by  my  valor! 

Sir  Lucius.    What  the  devil's  the  matter  with  you? 

Acres.  Nothing,  nothing,  my  dear  friend — my  dear  Sir  Lu- 
cius— but — I — I — I  don't  feel  quite  so  bold,  somehow,  as  I  did. 

Sir  L.    Oh,  fie !  consider  your  honor. 

Acres.  Ay,  true — my  honor — do,  Sir  Lucius,  edge  in  a  word 
or  two,  every  now  and  then,  about  my  honor. 

Sir  L.    Well,  here  they're  coming. 

Acres.  Sir  Lucius,  if  I  weren't  with  you,  I  would  almost  think 
I  was  afraid — if  my  valor  should  leave  me !  valor  will  come  and  go. 

"The  Rivals."  SHERIDAN. 

DEFIANCE 

Blaze,  with  your  serried  columns! 

I  will  not  bend  the  knee! 
The  shackles  ne'er  again  shall  bind 

The  arm  which  now  is  free. 
I've  mail'd  it  with  the  thunder, 

When  the  tempest  mutter'd  low; 
And  where  it  falls,  ye  well  may  dread 

The  lightning  of  its  blow! 

"The  Seminole's  Reply."  GEORGE  W.  PATTEN. 


174  HOW  TO  SPEAK  IN  PUBLIC 

EXASPERATION 

Oh!  the  side  glance  of  that  detested  eye! 
That  conscious  smile !  that  full  insulting  lip ! 
It  touches  every  nerve ;  it  makes  me  mad ! 

BAILLIE. 

EXULTATION 

Go  ring  the  bells  and  fire  the  guns, 
And  fling  the  starry  banners  out ; 

Shout  "Freedom !"  till  your  lisping  ones 
Give  back  their  cradle-shout. 

WHITTIEB. 

GLADNESS 

Now  the  laughing,  jolly  Spring  began  to  show  her  buxom  face 
in  the  bright  morning.  The  buds  began  slowly  to  expand  their 
close  winter  folds,  the  dark  and  melancholy  woods  to  assume  an 
almost  imperceptible  purple  tint;  and  here  and  there  a  little 
chirping  bluebird  hopped  about  the  orchards.  Strips  of  fresh 
green  appeared  along  the  brooks,  now  released  from  their  icy 
fetters;  and  nests  of  little  variegated  flowers,  nameless,  yet 
richly  deserving  a  name,  sprang  up  in  the  sheltered  recesses  of 
the  leafless  woods. 

HATRED 

Stay  there,  or  I'll  proclaim  you  to  the  house  and  the  whole 
street !  If  you  try  to  evade  me,  I'll  stop  you,  if  it's  by  the  hair, 
and  raise  the  very  stoaes  against  you. 

DICKENS. 

HOPE 

/Be  still,  sad  heart!  and  cease  repining;    \ 
i    Behind  the  clouds  is  the  sun  still  shining  y 
1    Thy  fate  is  the  common  fate  of  all, 
Into  each  life  some  rain  must  fall, 
Some  days  must  be  dark  and  dreary. 

"The  Eainy  Day."  LONGFELLOW. 


THE  EMOTIONS  175 

INDIGNANT  COMMAND 

"Be  that  word  our  sign  of  parting,  bird  or  fiend!"  I  shrieked, 

upstarting. 

"Get  thee  back  into  the  tempest  and  the  night's  Plutonian  shore! 

Leave  no  black  plume  as  a  token  of  the  lie  thy  soul  hath  spoken ! 

Leave  my  loneliness  unbroken,  quit  the  bust  above  my  door! 

Take  thy  beak  from  out  my  heart,  and  take  thy  form  from  off 

my  door!" 

Quoth  the  raven:  "Nevermore!" 

"The  Eaven.»  POE. 

JOY 

Then,  sing  ye  birds,  sing,  sing  a  joyous  song! 
And  let  the  young  lambs  bound 
As  to  the  tabor's  sound! 
We,  in  thought,  will  join  your  throng, 
Ye  that  pipe  and  ye  that  play, 
Ye  that  through  your  hearts  to-day 
Feel  the  gladness  of  the  May ! 
"Intimations  of  Immortality:'  WORDSWORTH. 

PATRIOTISM 

Oh!  thus  be  it  ever,  when  freemen  shall  stand 

Between  our  loved  home  and  the  war's  desolation; 
Blessed  with  victory  and  peace,  may  the  heaven-rescued  land 
Praise  the  power  that  hath  made  and  preserved  us  a  nation! 
Then  conquer  we  must,  for  our  cause  it  is  just, 
And  this  be  bur  motto,  "IN  GOD  IS  OUR  TRUST"; 
And  the  star-spangled  banner  in  triumph  shall  wave 
O'er  the  land  of  the  free  and  the  home  of  the  brave. 
"The  Star-spangled  Banner."  KEY. 

RESIGNATION 

Forever  and 'forever,  all  in  a  blessed  home, 
And  there  to  wait  a  little  while,  till  you  and  Effie  come, 
To  lie  within  the  light  of  God,  as  I  lie  upon  your  breast, 
And  the  wicked  cease  from  troubling,  and  the  weary  are  at  rest. 
"May  Queen."  TENNYSON. 


176  HOW  TO  SPEAK  IN  PUBLIC 

REVERENCE 

Father,  Thy  hand 

Hath  rear'd  these  venerable  columns;  Thou 
Dids't  weave  this  verdant  roof.    Thou  dids't  look  down 
Upon  the  naked  earth,  and  forthwith  rose 
All  these  fair  ranks  of  trees. 

"Forest  Hymn."  BRYANT. 

SADNESS 

We  buried  the  old  year  in  silence  and  sadness.  To  many  it 
brought  misfortune  and  affliction.  The  wife  hath  given  her  hus- 
band and  the  husband  his  wife  at  its  stern  behest;  the  father 
hath  consigned  to  its  cold  arms  the  son  in  whom  his  life  centered, 
and  the  mother  hath  torn  from  her  bosom  her  tender  babe  and 
buried  it  and  her  heart  in  the  cold,  cold  ground. 

EDWARD  BROOKS. 
SCORN 

I  scorn  to  count  what  feelings,  withered  hopes, 
Strong  provocations,  bitter,  burning  wrongs, 
I  have  within  my  heart's  hot  cells  shut  up, 
To  leave  you  in  your  lazy  dignities. 

"Catiline."  CROLY. 

SUBLIMITY 

Thou  glorious  mirror!  where  the  Almighty's  form 

Glasses  itself  in  tempests;  in  all  time, 
Calm  or  convulsed, — in  breeze,  or  gale,  or  storm, — 

Icing  the  pole,  or  in  the  torrid  clime 

Dark  heaving; — boundless,  endless,  and  sublime, — 
The  image  of  Eternity, — the  throne 

Of  the  Invisible;  even  from  out  thy  slime 
The  monsters  of  the  deep  are  made;  each  zone 
Obeys  thee, — thou  goest  forth,  dread,  fathomless,  alone ! 

"Childe  Harold."  BYRON. 


THE  EMOTIONS  177 

SURPRISE 

Gone  to  be  married! — gone  to  swear  a  peace! 

False  blood  to  false  blood  joined!     Gone  to  be  friends! 

Shall  Lewis  have  Blanch?  and  Blanch  those  provinces? 

It  is  not  so; — thou  hast  mis-spoke, — mis-heard! 

Be  well  advised,  tell  o'er  thy  tale  again, — 

It  cannot  be : — thou  dost  but  say  'tis  so. 

SHAKESPEARE. 

TERROR 

Now  o'er  the  one  half  world 

Nature  seems  dead;  and  the  wicked  dreams  abuse 
The  curtained  sleep;  now  witchcraft  celebrates 
Pale  Hecate's  offerings;  and  withered  murder, 
Alarumed  by  his  sentinel,  the  wolf, 
Whose  howl's  his  watch,  thus  with  his  stealthy  pace, 
Toward  his  design 

Moves  like  a  ghost. — Thou  sure  and  firm-set  earth, 
Hear  not  my  steps,  which  way  they  walk,  for  fear 
The  very  stones  prate  of  my  whereabout, 
And  take  the  present  horror  from  the  time, 
Which  now  suits  with  it. 
"Macbeth."  SHAKESPEARE. 

THREAT 

Do  you  think  to  frighten  me?  You!  Do  you  think  to  turn 
me  from  any  purpose  that  I  have  or  any  course  I  am  resolved 
upon,  by  reminding  me  of  the  solitude  of  this  place  and  there 
being  no  help  near?  Me,  who  am  here  designedly?  If  I  had 
feared  you,  should  I  not  have  avoided  you?  If  I  feared  you, 
should  I  be  here  in  the  dead  of  night,  telling  you  to  your  face 
what  I  am  going  to  tell?  But  I  tell  you  nothing  until  you  go 
back  to  that  chair — except  this  once  again.  Do  not  dare  to  .come 
near  me — not  a  step  nearer.  I  have  something  lying  here  that  is 
no  love  trinket;  and  sooner  than  endure  your  touch  once  more, 


178  HOW  TO  SPEAK  IN  PUBLIC 

I  would  use  it  on  you — and  you  know  it  while  I  speak — with  less 
reluctance  than  I  would  on  any  other  creeping  thing  that  lives. 

TRIUMPH 

Mark  ye  the  flashing  oars, 
And  the  spears  that  light  the  deep? 
How  the  festal  sunshine  pours 
Where  the  lords  of  battle*  sweep ! 
Each  hath  brought  back  his  shield; 
Maid,  greet  thy  lover  home! 
Mother,  from  that  proud  field) 
lo !  thy  son  is  come. 

MISCELLANEOUS 

1.    Information,  speculation;  fluctuation,  ruination. 
Dissipation,  degradation;  reformation  or  starvation. 
Application,  situation;  occupation,  restoration. 
Concentration,  enervation,  nerve  prostration.    A  vacation. 
Destination,  country  station.    Nice  location,  recreation. 
Exploration,  ^observation ;  fascination — a  flirtation. 
Trepidation,  hesitation,  conversation,  simulation; 
Invitation,  acclamation,  sequestration,  cold  libation. 
Stimulation,  animation;  inspiration,  new  potation. 
Demonstration,  agitation,  circulation,  exclamation! 
Declaration,  acceptation,  osculation,  sweet  sensation. 
Exultation,  preparation,  combination,  new  relation.1 
"Modern  Romance."  HENRY  BLOSSOM,  JR. 

2.  Squeers  left  the  room,  and  shortly  afterward  returned, 
dragging  Smike  by  the  collar, — or  rather  by  that  fragment  of 
his  jacket  which  was  nearest  the  place  where  his  collar  ought  to 
have  been. 

"Now  what  have  you  got  to  say  for  yourself?  Stand  a  little 
out  of  the  way,  Mrs.  Squeers,  my  dear;  I've  hardly  got  room 
enough." 

1  Bj  permission  of  The  Smart  Set,  New  York. 


THE  EMOTIONS  179 

"Spare  me,  sir!" 

"Oh,  that's  all  you've  got  to  say,  is  it?  Yes,  I'll  flog  you 
within  an  inch  of  your  life,  and  spare  you  that." 

One  cruel  blow  had  fallen  on  him,  when  Nicholas  Nickleby 
cried  "Stop!" 

"Who  cried  'Stop'?" 

"I  did.     This  must  not  go  on." 

"Must  not  go  on?" 

"No!  Must  not!  Shalfrnot!  I  will  prevent  it!  You  have 
disregarded  all  my  quiet  interference  in  this  miserable  lad's  be- 
half; you  have  returned  no  answer  to  the  letter  in  which  I  begged 
forgiveness  for  him,  and  offered  to  be  responsible  that  he  would 
remain  quietly  here.  Don't  blame  me  for  this  public  interfer- 
ence. You  have  brought  it  upon  yourself,  not  I." 

"Sit  down,  beggar!" 

"Wretch,  touch  him  again  at  your  peril!  I  will  not  stand  by 
and  see  it  done.  My  blood  is  up,  and  I  have  the  strength  of  ten 
such  men  as  you.  By  Heaven !  I  will  not  spare  you,  if  you  drive 
me  on!  I  have  a  series  of  personal  insults  to  avenge,  and  my 
indignation  is  aggravated  by  the  cruelties  practised  in  this  cruel 
den.  Have  a  care,  or  the  consequences  will  fall  heavily  upon 
your  head!" 

Squeers,  in  violent  outbreak,  spat  at  him,  and  struck  him  a 
blow  across  the  face.  Nicholas  instantly  sprung  upon  him,  wrested 
his  weapon  from  his  hand,  and,  pinning  him  by  the  throat,  beat 
the  ruffian  till  he  roared  for  mercy.  He  then  flung  him  away 
with  all  the  force  he  could  muster,  and  the  violence  of  his  fall 
precipitated  Mrs.  Squeers  over  an  adjacent  form;  Squeers,  stri- 
king his  head  against  the  same  form  in  his  descent,  lay  at  his  full 
length  on  the  ground,  stunned  and  motionless. 

"Nicholas  Nickleby."  DICKENS. 


CHAPTER   XII 
BIBLE    READING 

In  Nehemiah  13,  8  are  these  words:  "And  they  read 
in  the  book,  in  the  law  of  God,  distinctly ;  and  they  gave 
the  sense,  so  that  they  understood  the  reading." 

This  verse  contains  a  concise  treatise  on  the  art  of  Bible 
reading.  Before  a  reader,  however,  can  give  the  sense  to 
others,  he  must  have  a  deep  realization  of  the  truth  he  is 
Uttering.  Careful  analysis  will  give  a  clear  understanding 
of  the  thought,  and  "brooding"  over  it  will  awaken  true 
feeling.  The  reader's  mental  attitude  should  be  one.  of 
dignity,  genuineness  and  simplicity.  He  should  feel  that 
he  is  delivering  a  message  to  himself  as  well  as  to  others. 
He  must  be  thoroughly  in  sympathy  with  his  theme  and 
the  occasion.  The  common  faults  in  Bible  reading  are  mo- 
notony, artificiality,  pomposity,  drawling,  mannerism,  fa- 
miliarity, lifelessness,  indistinctness,  excessively  high  pitch, 
somberness,  and  rocking  to  and  fro  of  the  body. 

The  principal  divisions  of  Bible  reading  are: 

1.  Narrative,  or  the  story- telling  style.     As  the  name 
implies  it  is  colloquial  in  character  and  divided  into  fa- 
miliar and  elevated,  the  latter  requiring  greater  fervor, 
force,  and  dignity  than  the  former.     It  usually  comprises 
a  series  of  pictures  and  the  portrayal  of  character. 

2.  Didactic,  or  the  teacher's  style,  is  directed  more  par- 
ticularly to  the  reason  and  judgment  of  the  hearer.     Spe- 

180 


BIBLE  READING  181 

cial  attention  is  here  given  to  pausing,  emphasis,  and  in- 
flection, tho  appropriate  feeling  is  equally  important. 

3.  Prophetic,  or  dramatic  style,  requires  increased  fervor 
and  energy,  and  all  the  depth  and  fulness  of  orotund  voice. 
It  may  be  bold  or  gentle,  according  to  its  particular  char- 
acter. 

4.  Lyric,  or  musical  style,  by  its  rhythm  and  melody  de- 
mands increased  expression  and  intensity  in  feeling,  run- 
ning through  all  the  various  emotions  of  joy,  sorrow,  ado- 
ration, grief,  etc. 

PASSAGES   FOR   PRACTISE 

NARRATIVE:  Familiar— Gen.  4,  1-15;  Gen.  22,  1-13;  Gen.  24; 
John  4,  1-14;  1  Sam.  3,  1-18;  Luke  15,  11-32.  Elevated— Gen.  1, 
24-31;  Gen.  7,  11-24;  Gen.  15,  1-18;  Exod.  3,  1-20;  Exod.  14, 
5-31;  1  Kings  8,  1-63;  Acts  26,  1-29 

DIDACTIC:  Prov.  15,  1-11;  Matt.  6,  24-34;  1  Cor.  15;  Rom.  3; 
Rom.  11. 

PROPHETIC:  Is.  55;  Jo.  2,  1-11;  Is.  41;  Is.  42;  Hos.  14; 
Rev.  21. 

LYRIC:  Didactic— Ps.  1.  Pathos— Ps.  6.  Tranquillity— Ps.  8. 
Praise— Ps.  63.  Majesty— Ps.  97.  Solemnity— Ps.  139,  1-14. 
Also  Ps.  18,  19,  22,  29,  30,  31,  38,  65,  90,  104;  Exod.  15;  Luke  1, 
46-55;  Book  of  Job;  The  Song  of  Solomon. 


PART    III 
PUBLIC    SPEAKING 


CHAPTER   XIII 
PREVIOUS   PREPARATION 

PHYSICAL 

1.  Health.  Health  and  bodily  vigor  are  prerequisite 
conditions  to  success  in  public  speaking.  The  distinguished 
orators  of  the  world  have  almost  invariably  been  men  of 
strong  vitality  and  commanding  appearance.  Burke, 
Brougham,  Clay,  Webster,  Pinkney,  Choate,  Everett,  Lin- 
coln, Sumner,  Hall,  Spurgeon,  Beecher,  Gladstone,  Brooks, 
and  many  others  were  men  of  this  type.  Robust  health  has 
a  cheering  influence  and  is  a  sweetener  of  work.  To  main- 
tain this  condition  daily  attention  must  be  given  to  physical 
exercise,  deep  breathing,  bathing,  sleep,  diet,  and  recreation. 

Doctor  Storrs  names  among  specific  conditions  to  success 
in  preaching :  Physical  vigor,  kept  at  its  highest  attainable 
point.  He  adds :  ' '  The  general  and  harmonious  intellectual 
vigor,  whereby  one  conceives  subjects  clearly  and  fully, 
analyzes  them  rapidly,  sets  them  forth  with  exactness  in 
an  orderly  presentation,  and  urges  them  powerfully  on 
those  who  listen — this  requires  opulence  of  health;  a  sus- 
tained and  abounding  physical  vigor. ' ' * 

Doctor  Watson 's  advice  to  preachers  is  equally  applicable 
to  other  classes  of  speakers :  ' '  The  working  minister  should 
have  his  study  recharged  with  oxygen  every  hour,  to  sleep 
with  his  bedroom  window  open,  to  walk  four  miles  a  day, 
to  play  an  outdoor  game  once  a  week,  to  have  six  weeks' 


Richard  S.  Storrs,  D.  D.,  Preaching  without  Notes,  p.  86. 

185 


186  HOW  TO  SPEAK  IN  PUBLIC 

v 

holiday  a  year  and  once  in  seven  years  three  months — all 
that  his  thought  and  teaching  may  be  oxygenated  and  the 
fresh  air  of  Christianity  fill  the  souls  of  his  people. ' ' x 

2.  Elocution.  A  public  speaker  must  have  a  thorough 
practical  knowledge  of  the  art  of  elocution.  The  voice, 
face,  arms,  and  body  should  be  trained  to  respond  with 
ease  and  accuracy.  The  voice  and  delivery  can  be  highly 
developed  even  where  the  natural  conditions  seem  unprom- 
ising. The  great  orators  of  the  world  have  been  untiring 
workers  in  this  art.  Demosthenes  and  Cicero  subjected 
themselves  for  years  to  a  rigorous  course  of  vocal  training. 
Chatham  disciplined  himself  before  a  looking-glass.  Curran, 
who  stuttered  in  his  speech,  through  diligent  practise  be- 
came one  of  the  most  eloquent  forensic  advocates  the  world 
has  ever  seen.  Henry  Clay,  from  young  manhood,  read 
and  spoke  daily  upon  the  contents  of  some  historical  or 
scientific  book.  "These  off-hand  efforts,"  he  says,  "were 
made  sometimes  in  a  cornfield,  at  others  in  the  forest,  and 
not  unfrequently  in  some  distant  barn,  with  the  horse  and 
ox  for  my  auditors.  It  is  to  this  early  practise  in  the  great 
art  of  all  arts  that  I  am  indebted  for  the  primary  and 
leading  impulses  that  stimulated  me  forward,  and  shaped 
and  molded  my  entire  subsequent  destiny." 

Beecher  tells  of  having  been  drilled  incessantly  for  three 
years  in  posturing,  gesture,  and  voice-culture.  He  was 
accustomed  to  practise  in  the  open  air,  exploding  all  the 
vowels  throughout  the  various  pitches;  and  to  this  drill  he 
attributes  his  possession  of  a  flexible  instrument  that  ac- 
commodated itself  readily  to  all  kinds  of  thought  and 
feeling.2 


1  Ian  Maclaren,  The  Cure  of  Souls,  p.  281. 

3  Henry  Ward  Beecher,  Yale  Lectures  on  Pi-each  ing,  p.  135. 


PREVIOUS  PREPARATION  187 

3.  Appearance.  An  attractive  personal  appearance  is 
of  undoubted  advantage  to  a  speaker,  as  even  the  first  im- 
pression made  by  him  may  determine  his  subsequent  suc- 
cess or  failure.  Prejudices  and  preferences  are  formed  by 
an  audience  quickly  and  unconsciously.  The  speaker  who 
wishes  to  make  the  best  impression,  therefore,  should  make 
the  most  of  himself.  His  clothes  should  be  plain  and  in 
good  style.  Flashy  jewelry  should  not  be  worn.  He  should 
remember  that  immaculate  linen  and  scrupulous  care  of 
the  nails,  teeth  and  hair,  are  unmistakable  signs  of  culture 
and  refinement. 

MENTAL 

1.  General  Knowledge.  An  ideal  orator  is  necessarily 
a  man  of  extensive  knowledge.  According  to  the  ancients 
he  should  be  well-grounded  in  religion,  law,  philosophy, 
history,  logic,  and  numerous  other  subjects.  Cicero,  in 
speaking  of  the  incredible  magnitude  and  difficulty  of  the 
art  as  a  reason  for  the  scarcity  of  orators,  says :  "A  knowl- 
edge of  a  vast  number  of  things  is  necessary,  without  which 
volubility  of  words  is  empty  and  ridiculous;  speech  itself 
is  to  be  formed,  not  merely  by  choice,  but  by  careful  con- 
struction of  words ;  and  all  the  emotions  of  the  mind,  which 
nature  has  given  to  man,  must  be  intimately  known ;  for 
all  the  force  and  art  of  speaking  must  be  employed  in  al- 
laying or  exciting  the  feelings  of  those  who  listen.  To  this 
must  be  added  a  certain  portion  of  grace  and  wit,  learning 
worthy  of  a  well-bred  man,  and  quickness  and  brevity  in 
replying  as  well  as  attacking,  accompanied  with  a  refined 
decorum  and  urbanity.  Besides,  the  whole  of  antiquity 
and  a  multitude  of  examples  are  to  be  kept  in  the  memory ; 


188  HOW  TO  SPEAK  IN  PUBLIC 

nor  is  the  knowledge  of  laws  in  general,  or  of  the  civil  law 
in  particular,  to  be  neglected." 

Modern  writers  on  this  subject,  however,  do  not  demand 
so  much  of  an  orator.  Bautain  says:  "The  orator's  capital 
is  that  sum  of  science  or  knowledge  which  is  necessary  to 
him  in  order  to  speak  pertinently  upon  any  subject  what- 
ever; and  science  or  knowledge  is  not  extemporized.  Al- 
tho  knowledge  does  not  give  the  talent  for  speaking, 
still  he  who  knows  well  what  he  has  to  say,  has  many 
chances  of  saying  it  well,  especially  if  he  has  a  clear  and 
distinct  conception  of  it." 


\ 


Memory.  An  orator  should  have  a  good  memory.  If 
naturally  defective,  it  can  be  greatly  improved  by  judicious 
exercise.  There  are  numerous  systems  for  training  the 
memory,  but  only  a  few  suggestions  can  be  offered  here. 

Correct  methods  of  study  and  observation  will  produce 
a  good  memory.  The  habit  of  careful  selection  should  be 
cultivated,  as  only  a  limited  amount  of  new  material  can 
be-  assimilated  at  one  time.  To  read  large  amounts  of  mat- 
ter one  does  not  care  to  remember  is  harmful  to  the  memory. 
The  aim  should  always  be  to  secure  distinct  images  and 
ideas.  There  should  be  a  deep  interest  in  what  is  read. 
Committing  to  memory  lines  of  prose  and  poetry  will  do 
much  to  strengthen  a  weak  memory. 

3.  Rhetoric.  An  orator  must  have  a  thorough  and  prac- 
tical knowledge  of  rhetoric.  Cicero  says  that  writing  is 
the  best  and  most  excellent  modeler  and  teacher  of  oratory. 
''For,"  says  he,  "if  what  is  meditated  and  considered 
easily  surpasses  sudden  and  extemporary  speech,  a  constant 


Cicero,  On  Oratory  and  Orators. 


PREVIOUS  PREPARATION  189 

and  diligent  habit  of  writing  will  surely  be  of  more  effect 
than  meditation  and  consideration  itself;  since  all  the 
arguments  relating  to  the  subject  on  which  we  write, 
whether  they  are  suggested  by  art,  or  by  a  certain  power 
of  genius  and  understanding,  will  present  themselves,  and 
occur  to  us,  while  we  examine  and  contemplate  it  in  the  full 
light  of  our  intellect;  and  all  thoughts  and  words,  which 
are  the  most  expressive  of  their  kind,  must  of  necessity 
come  under  and  submit  to  the  keenness  of  our  judgment 
while  writing;  and  a  fair  arrangement  and  collocation  of 
the  words  is  effected  by  writing  in  a  certain  rhythm  and 
measure,  not  poetical,  but  oratorical. '  ' 

Doctor  Channing,  in  suggesting  the  use  of  the  pen,  says : 
' '  We  doubt  whether  a  man  ever  brings  his  faculties  to  bear 
with  their  whole  force  on  a  subject  until  he  writes  upon 
it.  ...  By  attempting  to  seize  his  thoughts,  and  fix 
them  in  an  enduring  form,  he  finds  them  vague  and  unsat- 
isfactory, to  a  degree  -which  he  did  not  suspect,  and  toils 
for  a  precision  and  harmony  of  views,  of  which  he  never 
before  felt  the  need." 

One  should  aim  to  acquire  a  wide  vocabulary.  There  is 
intrinsic  pleasure  in  the  study  of  words  and  their  finer 
shades  of  meaning.  The  consciousness  of  a  thorough  mas- 
tery of  language,  too,  gives  confidence  to  the  speaker,  while 
adding  force  and  accuracy  to  his  utterance.  Webster's 
masterly  style  is  due  in  large  measure  to  his  daily  habit  of 
studying  the  dictionary.  For  rhetorical  and  oratorical  im- 
provement, one  should  read  and  closely  analyze  the  writings 
of  the  best  authors,  then  endeavor  to  write  out  in  one's 
own  words  what  has  been  read.  Reading  aloud  every  day 
passages  from  the  masters  of  oratory  will  gradually  cul- 
tivate an  oratorical  style. 


190  HOW  TO  SPEAK  IN  PUBLIC 

4.  Originality.  The  development  of  originality  does  not 
preclude  one  from  studying  the  language  and  thoughts  of 
others.  What  is  read,  however,  must  be  sifted  through  a 
man's  own  mental  processes  before  he  can  truthfully  call 
it  his  own.  Lowell  says :  * '  That  thought  is  his  who  at  the 
last  expresses  it  the  best. ' ' 

The  test  of  originality  is  whether  the  thoughts  we  receive 
from  others  are  uttered  again  unchanged,  or  are  assimilated, 
changed,  and  amplified  in  the  process.  Professor  Esenwein 
suggests  as  some  of  the  sources  of  originality: 

1.  Original  minds  are  observers  of  nature.     About  us 
everywhere  are  thousands  of  facts  and  things  waiting  to 
be  observed. 

2.  Original  minds  have  learned  to  think  consecutively. 
This  is  simply  the  ability  to  think  and  reflect  systematically. 

3.  Original  minds  cherish  the  companionship  of  great 
thoughts.     In  a  few  great  books  one  will  find  the  epoch- 
making  thoughts  of  all  ages  and  a  close  contact  with  them 
will  fertilize  and  animate  his  own  mind. 

4.  Original  minds  dare  to  be  themselves.     Despite  the 
martyrdom,  the  loss  of  popularity,  or  temporary  sacrifice, 
a  man  must  be  willing  to  stand  upon  his  own  feet. 

An  orator  must  necessarily  gather  his  thoughts  from 
many  sources,  but  originality  lies  in  clothing  them  in  a  new 
dress  or  giving  them  a  fresh  representation.  Such  thoughts 
must  bear  the  stamp  of  individuality. 

5.  Imagination.     An  orator  must  be   able  to  portray 
scenes  and  pictures  with  his  voice  and  language.     This 
ability  to  represent  objects  and  events  not  present  to  the 
senses  is  the  image-making  power. 


PREVIOUS  PREPARATION  191 

Doctor  Neff  places  a  high  estimate  on  this  faculty.     He 

says : 

' '  Whether  the  images  are  produced  by  direct  observation, 
by  conversation,  by  reading,  or  reflection,  this  imaging 
faculty  is  the  central  power  of  man,  and  out  of  it  will 
spring  forth  all  the  marvelous  and,  at  present,  unconceived 
achievements  of  the  future.  Upon  it  depends  the  destiny 
of  each  individual  man  or  woman  now  on  earth.  Here  in 
this  silent  workshop  of  the  human  brain  is  formed  in  mi- 
croscopic miniature  all  the  originals  of  man's  outward 
doings.  Here  is  the  home  of  genius  and  the  secret  of  life's 
failures.  In  this  chamber  murder  is  first  committed,  or  the 
holiest  acts  of  charity  first  performed.  All  virtue  was  born 
here  and  all  vice  here  first  took  shape.  And  because  these 
were  first  mentally  enacted  they  were  afterwards  performed 
outwardly.  Every  act  is  twice  performed,  and  the  second 
doing  is  the  child  of  the  first." 

This  subject  properly  belongs  to  psychology,  but  a  few 
suggestions  are  offered  here:  A  study  of  the  works  of  im- 
aginative writers  and  poets  will  stimulate  and  develop  this 
faculty.  The  Bible  is  replete  With  imagery  and  should  be 
carefully  read  and  pondered.  The  books  of  Job  and  Isaiah 
are  particularly  recommended.  The  material  for  the  im- 
agination should  be  the  best  obtainable,  and  therefore  se- 
lected with  care  and  deliberation.  The  aim  should  con- 
stantly be  to  secure  images  that  are  complete  and  sym- 
metrical and  to  furnish  the  necessary  details  of  a  mental 
picture  with  skill  and  rapidity.  A  study  of  the  sciences, 
particularly  astronomy,  is  recommended  as  giving  scope 
for  the  cultivation  of  the  imagination. 


192  HOW  TO  SPEAK  IN  PUBLIC 

6.  Personal  Magnetism.     This  subtle  power  of  attrac- 
tion is  a  quality  possessed  by  few  persons.     It  is  a  potent 
influence  in  swaying  and  moving  an  audience,  and  is  asso- 
ciated with  geniality,  sympathy,  frankness,  manliness,  per- 
suasiveness and  an  attractive  personal  appearance.     There 
is  a  purely  animal  magnetism,  which  passes  from  speaker 
to  audience  and  back  again,  swiftly  and  silently.     This 
magnetic  quality  is  sometimes  found  in  the  voice,  in  the 
eyes,  or  may  be  reflected  in  the  whole  personality  of  the 
speaker.    The  human  eye  as  "the  window  of  the  soul"  is 
one  of  the  most  effective  and  direct  means  of  communica- 
tion between  man  and  man. 

7.  Logical  Instincts.    A  successful  orator  should  be  able 
to  instinctively  arrange  his  thoughts  in  clear  and  logical 
order.     The  various  parts  should  be  linked  together  in  ob- 
vious and  logical  relationship.     There  should  be  the  neces- 
sary  vivacity,    earnestness,    and   progressiveness,    and   all 
tendency  to  "dryness"  carefully  avoided.     Models  having 
this  logical  instinct,  such  as  Demosthenes,  Cicero,  Burke, 
and  Webster,  should  be  closely  studied.    If  necessary  spend 
six  months  in  studying  a  great  speech,  taking  it  apart,  see- 
ing how  it  is  put  together,  and  analyzing  it  in  all  its  details. 

8.  Figures  of  Oratory.     A  public  speaker  should  have 
a  practical  knowledge  of  the  principal  figures  of  oratory, 
sometimes  called  figures  of  emphasis.    These  are :  1.  Antith- 
esis.     2.    Rhetorical    Repetition.      3.    Recapitulation.      4. 
Climax.     5.  Accumulation.     6.  Interrogation.    7.  Exclama- 
tion.   8.  Command.    9.  Denunciation.    10.  Appeal  to  Deity. 
11.  Vision.     12.  Prediction.     13.  Egoism.     14.  Isolation. 


PREVIOUS  PREPARATION  193 

MORAL 

1.  Religion.     A  truly  successful  orator  must  be  a  relig- 
ious man — that  is,  one  of  Godward  bearing.    This  will  put 
upon  his  utterance  the  unmistakable  stamp  of  honesty  and 
sincerity,  so  that  men  will  instinctively  believe  in  him. 

2.  Character.     Character  and  reputation  are  not  syn- 
onymous.   One  is  what  a  man  is,  the  other  what  people  be- 
lieve him  to  be.  Doctor  Conwell  names  four  essentials  in  the 
character  of  a  public  speaker :   1.  Reputation,  in  the  better 
sense  of  what  a  man  truly  is.    2.   Good  sense,  or  zeal  with 
knowledge.     3.  Expert  acquaintance  with  his  subject,  or 
evidence  of  special  research  and  superior  knowledge.     4. 
Philanthropy,  or  a  sincere  interest  in  the  welfare  of  an 
audience  and  a  desire  to  move  them  to  action.1 

Henry  Ward  Beecher  in  his  "Yale  Lectures  on  Preach- 
ing" says :  "  A  minister  ought  to  be  entirely,  inside  and  out, 
a  pattern  man ;  not  a  pattern  man  in  abstention,  but  a  man 
of  grace,  generosity,  magnanimity,  peaceableness,  sweetness, 
tho  of  high  spirit  and  self-defensory  power  when  re- 
quired ;  a  man  who  is  broad,  and  wide,  and  full  of  precious 
contents.  You  must  come  up  to  a  much  higher  level  than 
common  manhood,  if  you  mean  to  be  a  preacher. ' ' 

3.  Sympathy.    Nervous,  sensitive,  diffident  natures  fre- 
quently produce  the  best  speakers,  as  these  qualities  are 
common  to  the  sympathetic  temperament.     This  faculty 
when  developed  enables  one  to  enter  whole-heartedly  into 
the  lives  and  interests  of  others.     The  ability  to  direct  the 
mind  at  will  into  emotional  channels  and  instantly  arouse 
appropriate   feeling,   is   of    great   value   to    any   speaker. 

1  Russell  H.  Conwell,  Oratory,  pp.  21,  22. 


194  HOW  TO  SPEAK  IN  PUBLIC 

Gentleness  of  manner,  sincerity  of  purpose,  and  breadth  of 
view,  are  parts  of  the  sympathetic  nature. 

4.  Fearlessness.    This  rests  primarily  on  personal  char- 
acter and  increases  with  the  right  kind  of  knowledge  and 
experience.     The  realization  of  being  right,  of  espousing  a 
worthy  cause  even  against  great  odds,  or  a  deep  sense  of 
duty,  will  often  give  courage  to  an  otherwise  timid  speaker. 
This  unflinching  attitude  is  illustrated  in  Garrison,  when 
he  said :    ' '  I  am  in  earnest !    I  will  not  equivocate — I  will 
not  excuse — I  will  not  retreat  a  single  inch — and  I  will  be 
heard ! ' '    The  things  that  contribute  most  to  fearlessness  in 
a  public  speaker  are :   character ;   a  thorough  knowledge  of 
the  subject  in  hand ;  a  wide  and  varied  vocabulary ;  a  deep- 
rooted  belief  in  the  cause  advocated;  a  knowledge  of  the 
audience  to  be  addressed;  and  a  subordinating  of  self-in- 
terests. 

5.  Self-renunciation.     To   be   preeminently   successful, 
an  orator  should  relinquish  all  self-interest.     Upon  great 
oratorical  occasions  a  speaker  practically  offers  himself  a 
living  sacrifice  to  his  cause.    His  subject  is  so  much  larger 
than  himself  that  he  is  unconsciously  lost  in  it.    This  self- 
renunciation  must  be  voluntary  and  complete. 

6.  Perseverance   and   Industry.     The  most   successful 
orators  have  been  men  of  indomitable  perseverance  and  un- 
tiring industry.    They  have  worked  long  and  late,  studying, 
observing,  reflecting,  writing,  revising  and  practising  aloud 
their  speeches. 

Alexander  Hamilton  once  said:  "Men  give  me  some 
credit  for  genius.  All  the  genius  I  have  lies  in  this :  When 
I  have  a  subject  in  hand,  I  study  it  profoundly.  Day  and 


PREVIOUS  PREPARATION  195 

night  it  is  before  me.  I  explore  it  in  all  its  bearings.  My 
mind  becomes  pervaded  with  it.  Then  the  effort  which  I 
make  is  what  the  people  are  pleased  to  call  the  fruits  of 
genius.  It  is  the  fruit  of  labor  and  thought. ' ' 

Carlyle  says:  ''Sweat  of  the  brow,  and  up  from  that  to 
sweat  of  the  brain ;  sweat  of  the  heart,  up  to  that '  agony  of 
bloody  sweat,'  which  all  men  have  called  divine!  Oh, 
brother,  if  this  is  not  worship,  then  I  say,  the  more  pity  for 
worship !  for  this  is  the  noblest  thing  yet  discovered  under 
God's  sky." 

7.  Strong  Opinions  and  Convictions.  A  man  can  not 
hope  to  be  a  leader  of  others  unless  he  has  clear,  vigorous, 
and  settled  views  upon  the  subject  under  consideration.  If 
his  ideas  are  like  a  weathercock,  changing  at  every  turn  of 
the  wind,  he  will  fail  utterly  to  convince  his  fellow  men. 
His  motto  should  be  like  that  of  the  late  Joseph  Cook: 
"Clearness  at  any  cost." 


CHAPTER   XIV 

PREPARATION  OF  THE  SPEECH 

GATHERING    MATERIAL 

Having  chosen  a  theme,  the  logical  order  is  to  first  gather 
the  material,  second  to  judiciously  select  from  it  and  ar- 
range it  in  order,  and  third  to  fix  it  in  the  mind  ready  for 
use.  The  task  of  finding  material  may  be  slow  and  tedious 
at  first,  but  successive  efforts  will  bring  ease  and  facility. 
The  habit  of  completely  "thinking  out"  a  subject  should 
be  cultivated  from  the  beginning.  Thoughts  should  be 
noted  down  in  writing  as  they  occur  and  not  be  left  to  the 
caprice  of  memory.  There  must  be  ample  time  in  which 
thoroughly  to  do  this  work.  After  exhausting  the  resources 
of  his  own  mind,  the  student  may  next  turn  to  books  in 
order  to  confirm  and  strengthen  his  ideas  and  gather  further 
new  material.  He  will  also  converse  with  well-informed 
people  whenever  possible  and  closely  observe  things  about 
him  that  bear  upon  the  subject  in  hand. 

To  repeat,  the  note-book  habit  can  not  be  too  strongly 
urged  here  as  the  only  safeguard  against  lapses  of  memory. 
References,  ideas,  quotations  and  arguments  should  be 
promptly  put  down  in  writing.  At  this  stage  of  preparing 
a  speech  the  student  will  eagerly  read  books,  magazines 
and  newspapers,  with  a  view  to  finding  further  suitable 
material. 

The  advice  given  to  preachers  by  Prof.  Arthur  S.  Hoyt, 
applies  equally  to  other  public  speakers.  He  says:  "By 

196 


PREPARATION  OF  THE  SPEECH        197 

all  means  do  your  own  thinking.  Fix  your  thought  upon 
the  text  and  subject,  and  try  to  penetrate  to  its  vital  mean- 
ing. Find  the  message  for  your  own  soul  in  it.  Believe 
in  the  spirit  of  truth  and  learn  to  trust  your  own  judgment 
as  enlightened  by  His  influence.  Do  not  go  at  once  to  com- 
mentaries and  homiletic  handbooks  for  material,  but  let 
your  own  thought  grow  by  thinking.  Take  stock  of  your 
own  mental  and  spiritual  resources.  Be  thoroughly  your- 
self and  find  your  own  voice,  for  in  this  way  only  will  you 
have  that  personal  and  individual  flavor  which  makes  the 
charm  of  true  preaching." 


ARRANGING    MATERIAL 

The  second  step,  that  of  selecting  what  is  desirable  from 
this  mass  of  unarranged  material,  requires  unusual  skill 
and  judgment.  Many  pet  ideas  and  phrases  must  be  dis- 
carded. Certain  portions  will  probably  have  to  be  rewrit- 
ten many  times  before  they  are  at  all  satisfactory.  It  is 
said  of  Macaulay  that  he  would  write  off  a  whole  story  at 
a  headlong  pace,  sketching  in  the  outlines  under  the  genial 
and  audacious  impulse  of  a  first  conception ;  but  in  the  final 
writing  he  would  not  allow  a  sentence  to  pass  muster  until 
it  was  as  good  as  he  could  make  it.  He  would  recast  entire 
paragraphs  and  chapters  in  order  to  secure  a  more  lucid 
arrangement. 

The  student  should  carefully  note  the  distinction  between 
the  preparation  of  an  essay  and  a  public  address.  There 
is  a  wide  difference  between  them,  inasmuch  as  one  is  in- 
tended to  be  spoken,  while  the  other  is  intended  to  be  read 
silently.  Both  require  the  highest  kind  of  literary  ability, 
but  a  speech  demands  a  more  vivid  style*  than  an  essay, 


198  HOW  TO  SPEAK  IN  PUBLIC 

being  designed  to  arouse  the  emotions  of  the  hearer  as  well 
as  to  convince  his  judgment.  In  a  speech,  too,  frequent 
repetition  of  thought  may  be  indulged  in,  to  emphasize  or 
drive  home  truth,  tho  the  phraseology  in  such  repetitions 
must  be  changed.  Aristotle  speaks  of  this  as  the  orator's 
gift  of  tautology. 

In  preparing  a  speech  it  is  well  to  stop  every  little  while 
in  writing  and  read  aloud  what  has  been  written  to  find 
whether  it ' '  speaks ' '  well.  If  the  words  do  not  fit  the  mouth 
of  the  speaker  there  is  something  wrong  somewhere  and  he 
should  endeavor  to  find  it  out  as  soon  as  possible,  otherwise 
he  may  have  to  prepare  his  entire  address  over  again. 


BRIEFING 

A  " brief"  is  not  the  exclusive  possession  of  the  lawyer, 
as  so  many  persons  believe,  nor  something  that  has  to  do 
only  with  the  court  room.  It  is  a  plan  whereby  any  speaker 
may  arrange  his  material  in  logical  order,  in  somewhat  the 
same  manner  that  the  architect  draws  his  plans  of  a  pro- 
posed building.  The  regular  divisions  of  a  brief  are:  1. 
The  Introduction.  2.  The  Brief  Proper.  3.  The  Conclusion. 
It  is  made  up  of  certain  definite  statements,  put  into  con- 
cise language  and  distinguished  by  letters  or  numerals. 
Under  each  of  the  main  headings  may  come  subheadings 
setting  forth  subordinate  ideas.  As  the  name  implies,  a 
"brief"  means  conciseness  and  clearness  throughout,  so 
that  the  entire  plan  can  be  readily  understood  by  another. 
For  a  full  exposition  of  this  subject  the  student  is  referred 
to  ' '  The  Principles  of  Argumentation, ' '  by  Professor  Baker, 
of  Harvard  University,  and  ' '  Argumentation  and  Debate, ' ' 
by  Professors  Laycock  and  Scales,  of  Dartmouth  College. 


PREPARATION  OF  THE  SPEECH  199 

COMMITTING 

It  is  good  discipline  for  the  average  beginner  to  thor- 
oughly memorize  his  speeches.  This  will  train  him  in  ac- 
curacy of  expression  and  increase  his  self-confidence.  As 
he  gains  experience,  he  may  speak  simply  from  full  notes, 
then  from  an  outline  or  ''brief,"  and  finally  from  a  series 
of  "  catch-words  "  or  headings. 

There  is  a  wide  difference  of  opinion  as  to  whether  a 
speech  should  be  memorized  or  not.  This  is  a  matter  that 
depends  largely  upon  the  temperament  of  the  speaker. 
Some  men  are  handicapped  by  a  memorized  effort  They 
must  have  free  exercise  of  the  mind  at  the  moment  of 
speaking,  otherwise  they  prove  cold  and  mechanical.  It 
should  be  the  aim  of  every  student  to  eventually  acquire 
the  art  of  extemporaneous  and  impromptu  speaking,  but 
in  the  majority  of  cases  the  habit  of  memorizing  at  first 
will  be  found  both  necessary  and  advantageous. 

The  proposed  speech  should  be  recited  aloud  many  times, 
before  a  looking-glass,  with  suitable  gesture,  in  the  fields 
or  the  open  air,  and,  when  possible,  in  the  hall  or  place 
where  it  is  finally  to  be  given. 

A  successful  speaker  once  said :  ' '  They  talk  of  my  aston- 
ishing bursts  of  eloquence,  and  doubtless  imagine  it  is  my 
genius  bubbling  over.  It  is  nothing  of  the  sort.  I'll  tell 
you  how  I  do  it.  I  select  a  subject  and  study  it  from  the 
ground  up.  When  I  have  mastered  it  fully,  I  write  a  speech 
on  it.  Then  I  take  a  walk  and  come  back,  and  revise  and 
correct.  In  a  few  days  I  subject  it  to  another  pruning,  and 
then  recopy  it.  Next  I  add  the  finishing  touches,  round  it 
off  with  graceful  periods,  and  commit  it  to  memory.  Then 
I  speak  it  in  the  fields,  on  my  father's  lawn,  and  before  my 
mirror,  until  gesture  and  delivery  are  perfect.  It  some- 


200  HOW  TO  SPEAK  IN  PUBLIC 

times  takes  me  six  weeks  or  two  months  to  get  up  a  speech. 
When  I  am  prepared  I  come  to  town.  I  generally  select 
a  court  day,  when  there  is  sure  to  be  a  crowd.  I  am  called 
on  for  a  speech,  and  am  permitted  to  select  my  own  sub- 
ject. I  speak  my  piece.  It  astonishes  the  people,  as  I  in- 
tended it  should,  and  they  go  away  marveling  at  my  power 
of  oratory.  They  call  it  genius,  but  it  is  the  hardest  kind 
of  work." 


CHAPTER   XV 

DIVISIONS  OF  THE  SPEECH 

The  usual  divisions  of  a  speech  are :  1.  The  Introduction. 
2.  The  Discussion,  or  Statement  of  Facts.  3.  The  Conclu- 
sion, or  Peroration. 

THE   INTRODUCTION 

This  is  a  difficult  and  critical  part  of  a  discourse.  The 
immediate  object  of  the  speaker  should  be  to  gain  the  at- 
tention and  good  will  of  the  audience.  To  this  end  he  will 
begin  modestly  and  with  something  familiar  or  acceptable 
to  them.  The  language  and  style  should  be  plain,  direct 
and  deliberate.  While  the  attitude  of  the  speaker  should 
be^  deferential,  it  must  be  remembered  that  "nerve"  and 
self-confidence  are  essential  to  success. 

Dr.  Russell  H.  Conwell  suggests  three  desirable  ways  in 
which  to  commence  an  address:  1.  By  anecdote,  which 
places  the  speaker  in  a  pleasant  relationship  with  his  au- 
dience. 2.  By  reference  to  the  importance  of  the  subject 
to  the  welfare  of  the  audience,  thereby  creating  an  intense 
interest  on  the  part  of  the  audience  who  believe  they  are 
to  receive  a  personal  benefit.  3.  By  showing  personal  in- 
terest in  the  success  of  the  audience,  which  awakens,  recip- 
rocally, the  interest  and  sympathy  of  the  audience  toward 
the  speaker. 

The  following  introductions,  taken  from  speeches  of 
recognized  merit,  will  repay  careful  study  and  analysis: 

201 


202  HOW  TO  SPEAK  IN  PUBLIC 

1.  First  of  all,  fellow  citizens,  I  pray  that  God  may  inspire  in 
your  hearts  on  this  occasion  the  same  impartial  good  will  toward 
me  that  I  have  always  felt  for  Athens  and  for  every  one  of  you. 

In  His  name,  in  the  name  of  your  religion  and  your  honor,  I 
ask  that  you  will  not  let  my  opponent  decide  the  way  in  which 
I  shall  be  heard — I  am  sure  you  will  not  be  so  cruel! — but  re- 
member the  laws  and  your  oath,  which,  among  the  many  obliga- 
tions imposed  upon  you,  require  that  you  hear  both  sides  alike. 
Not  only  must  you  not  condemn  beforehand,  not  only  must  you 
listen  with  impartial  ear  to  accuser  and  accused,  but  to  each  you 
must  allow  perfect  freedom  in  the  conduct  of  his  case. 

.L-Eschines  has  many  advantages  over  me  in  this  trial,  fellow 
citizens,  and  two  especially.  First  of  all,  our  stake  is  not  the 
same.  It  is  a  far  more  serious  matter  for  me  to  lose  your  esteem 
than  for  my  adversary  not  to  succeed  in  making  out  his  case. 
For  me — but  I  will  not  allow  myself  to  begin  by  making  an  un- 
lucky forecast.  For  him,  however,  it  is  merely  a  game. 

"The  Oration  on  the  Crown."  DEMOSTHENES. 

f  2.  MR.  PRESIDENT: — When  the  mariner  has  been  tossed  for 
I  many  days  in  thick  weather,  and  on  an  unknown  sea,  he  naturally 

)  avails  himself  of  the  first  pause  in  the  storm,  the  earliest  glance  of 
N.the  sun,  to  take  his  latitude,  and  ascertain  how  far  the  elements 

lhave  driven  him  from  his  true  course.  Let  us  imitate  this  prudence, 
/  and,  before  we  float  farther  on  the  waves  of  this  debate,  refer 
|  to  the  point  from  which  we  departed,  that  we  may  at  least  be 
V  able  to  conjecture  where  we  now  are. 

"The  Reply  to  Hayne"  WEBSTER. 

3.  "There  was  a  South  of  slavery  and  secession — that  South 
is  dead.  There  is  a  South  of  union  and  freedom — that  South, 
thank  God,  is  living,  breathing,  growing  every  hour."  These 
words,  delivered  from  the  immortal  lips  of  Benjamin  H.  Hill,  at 
Tammany  Hall,  in  1866,  true  then,  and  truer  now,  I  shall  make 
my  text  to-night. 

Mr.  President  and  Gentlemen:  Let  me  express  to  you  my  ap- 
preciation of  the  kindness  by  which  I  am  permitted  to  address 


DIVISIONS  OF  THE  SPEECH  203 

you.  I  make  this  abrupt  acknowledgment  advisedly,  for  I  feel 
that  if,  when  I  raised  my  provincial  voice  in  this  ancient  and 
august  presence,  I  could  find  courage  for  no  more  than  the  open- 
ing sentence,  it  would  be  well  if,  in  that  sentence,  I  had  met  in  a 
rough  sense  my  obligation  as  a  guest,  and  had  perished,  so  to 
speak,  with  courtesy  on  my  lips  and  grace  in  my  heart. 

Permitted,  through  your  kindness,  to  catch  my  second  wind, 
let  me  say  that  I  appreciate  the  significance  of  being  the  first 
Southerner  to  speak  at  this  board,  which  bears  the  substance,  if 
•it  surpasses  the  semblance  of  original  New  England  hospitality, 
and  honors  a  sentiment  that  in  turn  honors  you,  but  in  which 
my  personality  is  lost  and  the  compliment  to  my  people  made 
plain. 

"The  New  South."  HENRY  W.  ORADY. 


4.  GENTLEMEN  OF  THE  JURY: — Mr.  Kenyon  having  informed 
the  court  that  we  propose  to  call  no  other  witnesses,  it  is  now  my 
duty  to  address  myself  to  you  as  counsel  for  the  noble  prisoner 
at  the  bar,  the  whole  evidence  being  closed.     I  use  the  word 
closed,  because  it  certainly  is  not  finished,  since   I   have  been 
obliged  to  leave  the  seat  in  which  I  sat,  to  disentangle  myself 
from  the  volumes  of  men's  names,  which  lay  there  under  my  feet, 
whose  testimony,  had  it  been  necessary  for  the  defense,  would 
have  confirmed  all  the  facts  that  are  already  in  evidence  before 
you. 

"Defense  of  Lord  Gordon."  LORD  ERSKINE. 

5.  FELLOW  COUNTRYMEN: — At  this  second  appearing  to  take 
the  oath  of  the  presidential  office  there  is  less  occasion  for  an  ex- 
tended address  than  there  was  at  the  first.     Then  a  statement, 
somewhat  in  detail,  of  a  course  to  be  pursued,  seemed  fitting  and 
proper.     Now,   at  the   expiration   of  four  years,   during  which 
public  declarations  have  been  constantly  called   forth  on   every 
point  and  phase  of  the  great  contest  which  still  absorbs  the  at- 
tention and  engrosses  the  energies  of  the  nation,  little  that  is  new 
could  be  presented. 

"Second  Inaugural  Address"  ABRAHAM  LINCOLN. 


204  HOW  TO  SPEAK  IN  PUBLIC 

6.  For  more  than  twenty-five  years  I  have  been  made  perfectly 
familiar  with  popular  assemblies  in  all  parts  of  my  country  ex- 
cept the  extreme  South.  There  has  not  for  the  whole  of  that 
time  been  a  single  day  of  my  life  when  it  would  have  been  safe 
for  me  to  go  south  of  Mason  and  Dixon's  line  in  my  own 
country,  and  all  for  one  reason:  my  solemn,  earnest,  persistent 
testimony  against  that  which  I  consider  to  be  the  most  atrocious 
thing  under  the  sun — the  system  of  American  slavery  in  a  great 
free  republic.  [Cheers.]  I  have  passed  through  that  early  period 
when  right  of  free  speech  was  denied  to  me.  Again  and  again 
I  have  attempted  to  address  audiences  that,  for  no  other  crime 
than  that  of  free  speech,  visited  me  with  all  manner  of  con- 
tumelious epithets;  and  now  since  I  have  been  in  England,  al- 
tho  I  have  met  with  greater  kindness  and  courtesy  on  the  part 
of  most  than  I  deserved,  yet,  on  the  other  hand,  I  perceive  that 
the  Southern  influence  prevails  to  some  extent  in  England.  [Ap- 
plause and  uproar.]  It  is  my  old  acquaintance;  I  understand  it 
perfectly — [laughter] — and  I  have  always  held  it  to  be  an  un- 
failing truth  that  where  a  man  had  a  cause  that  would  bear 
examination  he  was  perfectly  willing  to  have  it  spoken  about. 
[Applause.]  And  when  in  Manchester  I  saw  those  huge  plac- 
ards: "Who  is  Henry  Ward  Beecherf'— [laughter,  cries  of 
"Quite  right,"  and  applause] — and  when  in  Liverpool  I  was 
told  that  there  were  those  blood-red  placards,  purporting  to 
say  what  Henry  Ward  Beecher  had  said,  and  calling  upon  Eng- 
lishmen to  suppress  free  speech — I  tell  you  what  I  thought.  I 
thought  simply  this:  "I  am  glad  of  it."  [Laughter.]  Why? 
Because  if  they  had  felt  perfectly  secure  that  you  are  the  min- 
ions of  the  South  and  the  slaves  of  slavery,  they  would  have 
been  perfectly  still.  [Applause  and  uproar.]  And,  therefore, 
when  I  saw  so  much  nervous  apprehension  that,  if  I  were  per- 
mitted to  speak — [hisses  and  applause] — when  I  found  they 
were  afraid  to  have  me  speak — [hisses,  laughter,  and  "No,  no!"] 
— when  I  found  that  they  considered  my  speaking  damaging  to 
their  cause — [applause] — when  I  found  that  they  appealed  from 
facts  and  reasonings  to  mob  law — [applause  and  uproar] — I  said, 
no  man  need  tell  me  what  the  heart  and  secret  counsel  of  these 
men  are.  They  tremble  and  are  afraid.  [Applause,  laughter, 
hisses,  "No,  no!"]  Now,  personally,  it  is  a  matter  of  very  lit- 


DIVISIONS  OF  THE  SPEECH  205 

tie  consequence  to  me  whether  I  speak  here  to-night  or  not. 
[Laughter  and  cheers.]  But,  one  thing  is  very  certain,  if  you 
do  permit  me  to  speak  here  to-night  you  will  hear  very  plain 
talking.  [Applause  and  hisses.]  You  will  not  find  a  man — [in- 
terruption]— you  will  not  find  me  to  be  a  man  that  dared  to 
speak  about  Great  Britain  three  thousand  miles  off,  and  then  is 
afraid  to  speak  to  Great  Britain  when  he  stands  on  her  shores. 
[Immense  applause  and  hisses.]  And  if  I  do  not  mistake  the 
tone  and  temper  of  Englishmen,  they  had  rather  have  a  man 
who  opposes  them  in  a  manly  way — [applause  from  all  parts 
of  the  hall] — than  a  sneak  that  agrees  with  them  in  an  unmanly 
way.  [Applause  and  "Bravo!"]  Now,  if  I  can  NOT  carry  you 
with  me  by  facts  and  sound  arguments,  I  DO  NOT  WISH  YOU 
TO  GO  WITH  ME  AT  ALL;  and  all  that  I  ask  is  simply  FAIR 
PLAY.  [Applause,  and  a  voice:  "You  shall  have  it,  too."] 
"Liverpool  Speech."  HENRY  WARD  BEECHER. 

THE  DISCUSSION,   OR   STATEMENT   OF  FACTS 

This  is  the  main  portion  of  an  address  and  should  be 
marked  throughout  by  sound  logic  and  common  sense.  It 
is  well  for  the  speaker  to  begin  with  facts  that  are  familiar 
to  the  audience,  then  they  will  more  readily  follow  his 
leadership  into  new  and  uncertain  fields  of  inquiry. 

The  essential  elements  to  be  observed  are  unity,  order, 
movement.  By  unity  is  meant  singleness  of  idea  and  free- 
dom from  unnecessary  digression.  There  must  be  an  in- 
telligent order  throughout,  to  give  clearness  to  the  spoken 
word.  There  must  also  be  movement,  or  development,  that 
the  speech  may  make  progress  and  bring  the  hearer  to  his 
destination.  This  is  the  very  life  of  discourse,  without 
which  public  speaking  would  be  both  uninteresting  and 
unprofitable. 

Iteration,  the  repetition  of  a  word  or  phrase,  if  not  over- 
done, may  frequently  add  force  and  clearness  to  a  speech. 


206  HOW  TO  SPEAK  IN  PUBLIC 

A  good  illustration  of  this  is  the  following  passage  from 
Matthew  Arnold: 

The  practical  genius  of  our  people  could  not  but  urge  irre- 
sistibly to  the  production  of  a  real  prose  style,  because  for  the 
purposes  of  modern  life  the  old  English  prose,  the  prose  of 
Milton  and  Taylor,  is  cumbersome,  unavailable,  impossible.  A 
style  of  regularity,  uniformity,  precision,  balance,  was  wanted. 
These  are  the  qualities  of  a  serviceable  prose  style.  Poetry  was 
a  different  logic,  as  Coleridge  said,  from  prose.  But  there  is 
no  doubt  that  a  style  of  regularity,  uniformity,  precision,  balance, 
will  acquire  a  yet  stronger  hold  upon  the  mind  of  a  nation  if 
it  is  adopted  in  poetry  as  well  as  in  prose,  and  so  comes  to  gov- 
ern both.  This  is  what  happened  in  France.  To  the  practical, 
modern,  and  social  genius  of  the  French  a  true  prose  was  in- 
dispensable. They  produced  one  of  conspicuous  excellence,  su- 
premely powerful  and  influential  in  the  last  century,  the  first 
to  come  and  standing  at  first  alone,  a  modern  prose.  French 
prose  is  marked  in  the  highest  degree  by  the  qualities  of  regu- 
larity, uniformity,  precision,  balance.  With  little  opposition 
from  any  deep-seated  and  imperious  poetic  instincts,  the  French 
made  their  poetry  also  conform  to  the  law  which  was  molding 
their  prose.  French  poetry  became  marked  with  the  qualities 
of  regularity,  uniformity,  precision,  balance. 

A  speech  should  have  the  two  elements  of  convincingness 
and  persuasiveness.  The  first  appeals  to  the  intellect,  the 
second  appeals  to  the  heart  of  the  listener.  The  interblend- 
ing  of  the  two  qualities  produces  the  most  satisfactory  ad- 
dress. The  first  demands  mere  statement  of  fact,  cold 
logic  and  cogent  reasoning;  the  second,  by  its  warmth  and 
color,  stirs  the  emotions  and  moves  the  hearer  to  action. 

The  following  is  an  illustration  of  the  convincing  style, 
without  any  attempt  to  move  the  feelings : 

My  lords,  the  meaning  of  this  maxim,  "that  a  man  shall  not 
disable  himself,"  is  solely  this:  that  a  man  shall  not  disable  him- 


DIVISIONS  OF  THE  SPEECH  207 

self  by  his  own  wilful  crime;  and  such  a  disability  the  law  will 
not  allow  him  to  plead.  If  a  man  contracts  to  sell  an  estate  to 
any  person  upon  certain  terms  at  such  a  time,  and  in  the  meantime 
he  sells  it  to  another,  he  shall  not  be  allowed  to  say,  "Sir,  I  can 
not  fulfil  my  contract;  it  is  out  of  my  power;  I  have  sold  my 
estate  to  another."  Such  a  plea  would  be  no  bar  to  an  action, 
because  the  act  of  his  selling  it  to  another  is  the  very  breach  of 
contract.  So,  likewise,  a  man  who  hath  promised  marriage  to 
one  lady,  and  afterward  marries  another,  can  not  plead  in  bar 
of  a  prosecution  from  the  first  lady  that  he  is  already  married, 
because  his  marrying  the  second  lady  is  the  very  breach  of  prom- 
ise to  the  first.  A  man  shall  not  be  allowed  to  plead  that  he  was 
drunk  in  bar  of  a  criminal  prosecution,  tho  perhaps  he  was 
at  the  time  as  incapable  of  the  exercise  of  reason  as  if  he  had 
been  insane,  because  his  drunkenness  was  itself  a  crime.  He 
shall  not  be  allowed  to  excuse  one  crime  by  another.  The  Ro- 
man soldier,  who  cut  off  his  thumbs,  was  not  suffered  to  plead 
his  disability  for  the  service  to  procure  his  dismission  with  im- 
punity, because  his  incapacity  was  designedly  brought  on  him  by 
his  own  wilful  fault.  And  I  am  glad  to  observe  so  good  an 
agreement  among  the  judges  upon  this  point,  who  have  stated 
it  with  great  precision  and  clearness. 

When  it  was  said,  therefore,  that  "a  man  can  not  plead  his 
crime  in  excuse  for  not  doing  what  he  is  by  law  required  to  do," 
it  only  amounts  to  this,  that  he  can  not  plead  in  excuse  what,  when 
pleaded,  is  no  excuse;  but  there  is  not  in  this  the  shadow  of  an 
objection  to  his  pleading  what  is  an  excuse — pleading  a  legal 
disqualification.  If  he  is  nominated  to  be  a  justice  of  the  peace, 
he  may  say,  "I  can  not  be  a  justice  of  the  peace,  for  I  have  not 
a  hundred  pounds .  a  year."  In  like  manner,  a  Dissenter  may 
plead,  "I  have  not  qualified,  and  I  can  not  qualify,  and  am  not 
obliged  to  qualify;  and  you  have  no  right  to  fine  me  for  not 
serving." 

"The  Case  of  Evans."  LORD  MANSFIELD. 

The  following  is  a  splendid  example  of  both  styles  com- 
bined : 

I  plead  not  for  a  murderer.  I  have  no  inducement,  no  motive 
to  do  so.  I  have  addressed  my  fellow  citizens  in  many  various 


208  HOW  TO  SPEAK  IN  PUBLIC 

relations,  when  rewards  of  wealth  and  fame  awaited  me.  I  have 
been  cheered  on  other  occasions  by  manifestations  of  popular 
approbation  and  sympathy;  and  where  there  was  no  such  en- 
couragement, I  had  at  least  the  gratitude  of  him  whose  cause  I 
defended.  But  I  speak  now  in  the  hearing  of  a  people  who 
have  prejudged  the  prisoner,  and  condemned  me  for  pleading 
in  his  behalf.  He  is  a  convict,  a  pauper,  a  negro,  without  intel- 
lect, sense,  or  emotion.  My  child,  with  an  affectionate  smile, 
disarms  my  care-worn  face  of  its  frown  whenever  I  cross  my 
threshold.  The  beggar  in  the  street  obliges  me  to  give,  because 
he  says  "God  bless  you"  as  I  pass.  My  dog  caresses  me  with  fond- 
ness if  I  will  but  smile  on  him.  My  horse  recognizes  me  when 
I  fill  his  manger.  But  what  reward,  what  gratitude,  what  sym- 
pathy and  affection  can  I  expect  here?  There  the  prisoner 
sits.  Look  at  him.  Look  at  the  assemblage  around  you.  Listen 
to  their  ill-suppressed  censures  and  their  excited  fears,  and  tell 
me  where,  among  my  neighbors  or  my  fellow  men,  where,  even 
in  his  heart,  I  can  expect  to  find  the  sentiment,  the  thought,  not 
to  say  of  reward  or  of  acknowledgment,  but  even  of  recognition. 
I  sat  here  two  weeks  during  the  preliminary  trial.  I  stood  here, 
between  the  prisoner  and  the  jury,  nine  hours,  and  pleaded  for 
the  wretch  that  he  was  insane  and  did  not  even  know  he  was 
on  trial;  and,  when  all  was  done,  the  jury  thought,  at  least  eleven 
of  them  thought,  that  I  had  been  deceiving  them,  or  was  self- 
deceived.  They  read  signs  of  intelligence  in  his  idiotic  smile, 
and  of  cunning  and  malice  in  his  stolid  insensibility.  They  ren- 
dered a  verdict  that  he  was  sane  enough  to  be  tried — a  contempti- 
ble compromise  verdict  in  a  capital  case ;  and  then  they  looked  on, 
with  what  emotions  God  and  they  alone  know,  upon  his  arraign- 
ment. The  district  attorney,  speaking  in  his  adder  ear,  bade  him 
rise,  and,  reading  to  him  one  indictment,  asked  him  whether  he 
wanted  a  trial,  and  the  poor  fool  answered  no.  Have  you  coun- 
sel? No.  And  they  went  through  the  same  mockery,  the  pris- 
oner giving  the  same  answers,  until  a  third  indictment  was  thun- 
dered in  his  ears,  and  he  stood  before  the  court  silent,  mo- 
tionless, and  bewildered.  Gentlemen,  you  may  think  of  this  evi- 
dence what  you  please,  bring  in  what  verdict  you  can,  but  I 
asseverate,  before  Heaven  and  you,  that,  to  the  best  of  my  knowl- 
edge and  belief,  the  prisoner  at  the  bar  does  not,  at  this  moment, 


DIVISIONS  OF  THE  SPEECH  209 

know  why  it  is  that  my  shadow  falls  on  you  instead  of  his  own. 
"The  Defense  of  William  Freeman."  W.  H.  SEWARD. 


THE  CONCLUSION,  OR  PERORATION 

This  is  the  summing  up,  or  culmination,  of  all  that  has 
gone  before,  and  should  be  marked  by  great  earnestness. 
It  is  the  most  vital  part  of  a  speech,  the  supreme  moment 
when  the  speaker  is  to  drive  his  message  home  and  make 
his  most  lasting  impression.  This  calls  for  the  very  best 
that  is  in  a  man.  The  style  of  conclusion  may  vary  accord- 
ing to  circumstances,  but  generally  it  should  be  short, 
simple  and  earnest. 

The  customary  method  is  to  recapitulate  or  summarize 
what  has  been  said,  in  order  to  impress  it  vividly  upon  the 
mind  of  the  audience.  While  an  abrupt  ending  may  ruin 
an  otherwise  successful  effort,  the  temptation  to  make  the 
closing  appeal  too  long  should  be  carefully  avoided. 
Whether  the  speech  be  memorized  throughout  or  not,  the 
speaker  should  know  specifically  the  thought,  if  not  the 
phraseology,  with  which  he  intends  to  end  his  address. 

The  following  conclusions  of  well-known  speeches  should 
be  studied  and  practised  aloud: 

1.  Advance,  then,  ye  future  generations!  We  would  hail  you, 
as  you  rise  in  your  long  succession,  to  fill  the  places  which  we 
now  fill,  and  to  taste  the  blessings  of  existence  where  we  are 
passing,  and  soon  shall  have  passed,  our  own  human  duration. 
We  bid  you  welcome  to  this  pleasant  land  of  the  fathers.  We 
bid  you  welcome  to  the  healthful  skies  and  the  verdant  fields  of 
New  England.  We  greet  your  accession  to  the  great  inheritance 
which  we  have  enjoyed.  We  welcome  you  to  the  blessings  of  good 
government  and  religious  liberty.  We  welcome  you  to  the  treas- 
ures of  science  and  the  delights  of  learning.  We  welcome  you  to 
the  transcendent  sweets  of  domestic  life,  to  the  happiness  of 


210  HOW  TO  SPEAK  IN  PUBLIC 

kindred,  and  parents,  and  children.     We  welcome  you  to  the  im- 
measurable blessings  of  national  existence,  the  immortal  hope  of 
Christianity,  and  the  light  of  everlasting  truth! 
"Plymouth  Oration/'  WEBSTER. 

2.  Go  home,  if  you  dare, — go  home,  if  you  can,  to  your  con- 
stituents and  tell  them  that  you  voted  it  down !    Meet,  if  you  dare, 
the  appalling  countenances  of  those  who  sent  you  here,  and  tell 
them  that  you  shrank  from  the  declaration  of  your  own  senti- 
ments; that,  you  can  not  tell  how,  but  that  some  unknown  dread, 
some   indescribable   apprehension,   some   indefinable   danger,    af- 
frighted you;  that  the  specters  of  cimeters,  and  crowns  and  cres- 
cents, gleamed  before  you,  and  alarmed  you;  and  that  you  sup- 
pressed all  the  noble  feelings  prompted  by  religion,  by  liberty, 
by  national   indeperfdence,   and  by  humanity!     I   cannot   bring 
myself  to  believe  that  such  will  be  the  feeling  of  a  majority  of 
this  House. 

"Duty  of  America  to  Greece."  HENRY  CLAY. 

3.  I  might,  as  a  constituent,  come  to  your  bar  and  demand  my 
liberty.     I  do  call  upon  you  by  the  laws  of  the  land,  and  their 
violation;  by  the  instruction  of  eighteen  centuries;  by  the  arms, 
inspiration,  and  providence  of  the  present  movement — tell  us  the 
rule  by  which  we  shall  go;  assert  the  law  of  Ireland;  declare  the 
liberty  of  the  land!     I  will  not  be  answered  by  a  public  lie,  in 
the  shape  of  an  amendment;  nor,  speaking  for  the  subject's  free- 
dom, am  I  to  hear  of  faction.    I  wish  for  nothing  but  to  breathe 
in  this  our  island,  in  common  with  my  fellow  subjects,  the  air 
of  liberty.     I  have  no  ambition,  unless  it  be  to  break  your  chains 
and  contemplate  your  glory.     I  never  shall  be  satisfied  so  long 
as  the  meanest  cottager  in  Ireland  has  a  link  of  the  British  chain 
clanking  to  his  rags.    He  may  be  naked;  he  shall  not  be  in  irons. 
And  I  do  see  the  time  at  hand;  the  spirit  has  gone  forth;  the 
declaration  of  right  is  planted,  and  tho  great  men  should  fall 
off,  the  cause  will  live;  and  tho  he  who  utters  this  should  die, 
yet  the  immortal  fire  shall  outlast  the  organ  that  conveys  it,  and 
the  breath  of  liberty,  like  the  word  of  the  holy  man,  will  not  die 
with  the  prophet,  but  survive  him. 

"Declaration  of  Irish  Eight."  GRATTAN. 


DIVISIONS  OF  THE  SPEECH  211 

4.  I  may  now,  therefore,  relieve  you  from  the  pain  of  hearing 
me  any  longer,  and  be  myself  relieved  from  speaking  on  a  subject 
which  agitates  and  distresses  me.     Since  Lord  George   Gordon 
stands  clear  of  every  hostile  act  or  purpose  against  the  Legislature 
of  his  country,  or  the  properties  of  his  fellow  subjects — since  the 
whole  tenor  of  his  conduct  repels  the  belief  of  the  traitorous 
intention  charged  by  the  indictment — my  task  is  finished.    I  shall 
make  no  address  to  your  passions.    I  will  not  remind  you  of  the 
long  and  rigorous  imprisonment  he  has  suffered;  I  will  not  speak 
to  you  of  his  great  youth,  of  his  illustrious  birth,  and  of  his 
uniformly  animated   and   generous   zeal   in   Parliament   for  the 
Constitution  of  his  country.     Such  topics  might  be  useful  in  the 
balance  of  a  doubtful  case;  yet,  even  then,  I  should  have  trusted 
to  the  honest  hearts  of  Englishmen  to  have  felt  them  without 
excitation.     At  present,  the  plain  and  rigid  rules  of  justice  and 
truth  are  sufficient  to  entitle  me  to  your  verdict. 

"Defense  of  Gordon."  LORD  ERSKINE. 

5.  No,  my  friends,  that  will  never  be  the  verdict  of  our  people. 
Therefore,  we  care  not  upon  what  lines  the  battle  is  fought.    If 
they  say  bimetallism  is  good,  but  that  we  can  not  have  it  until 
other  nations  help  us,  we  reply  that,  instead  of  having  a  gold 
standard  because  England  has,  we  will  restore  bimetallism,  and 
then  let  England  have  bimetallism  because  the  United  States  has 
it.     If  they  dare  to  come  out  in  the  open  field  and  defend  the 
gold  standard  as  a  good  thing,  we  will  fight  them  to  the  uttermost. 
Having  behind  us  the  producing  masses  of  this  nation  and  the 
world,  supported  by  the  commercial  interests,  the  laboring  inter- 
ests and  the  toilers  everywhere,  we  will  answer  their  demand  for 
a  gold  standard  by  saying  to  them:    You  shall  not  press  down 
upon  the  brow  of  labor  this  crown  of  thorns ;  you  shall  not  crucify 
mankind  upon  a  cross  of  gold. 

"  'Cross  of  Gold '  Speech."  WILLIAM  JENNINGS  BRYAN. 


CHAPTER   XVI 
DELIVERY  OF  THE  SPEECH 

THE  AUDIENCE 

It  is  desirable  that  a  speaker  should  have  some  knowledge 
of  the  people  he  is  to  address.  It  will  be  to  his  advantage 
to  know  something  of  their  range  of  thought  and  their 
likes  and  dislikes.  He  should  also  know  something  of  the 
occasion,  such  as:  Who  will  be  there?  What  is  expected 
of  him?  How  long  should  he  speak?  Will  there  be  any 
other  speakers?  What  will  be  the  spirit  of  the  audience? 
What  will  be  his  subject?  These  and  similar  questions  will 
enable  him  to  get  his  bearings  and  to  adapt  himself  to  a 
particular  audience.  It  is  assumed  that  the  speaker  has 
trained  himself  in  voice  and  gesture,  and  being  master  of 
these  means  of  expression,  he  now  steps  before  his  audience. 

THE   BEGINNING 

The  first  impression  made  by  a  speaker  will  often  deter- 
mine the  success  or  failure  of  his  undertaking.  He  should 
assume  a  natural  and  easy  standing  position  and  begin  in 
a  quiet  conversational  voice.  His  face  should  be  cheerful 
and  somewhat  animated,  and  his  bearing  should  be  modest. 
By  modesty  is  not  meant  timidity  or  an  attitude  of  sub- 
servience, for  lack  of  self-confidence  is  destructive  of  suc- 
cessful effort.  It  means  rather  a  sinking  of  self,  or  a 
merging  of  self  into  the  subject  in  hand.  Modesty  is  not 
incompatible  with  leadership,  and  a  public  speaker  must 

212 


DELIVERY  OF  THE  SPEECH  213 

be  a  leader.  He  should  look  his  audience  squarely  in  the 
eyes,  as  this  is  one  of  the  most  effective  means  of  riveting 
their  attention.  This  eye  to  eye  communication  will  enable 
him  to  estimate  the  effect  of  his  words,  and  to  know  when 
necessary  to  emphasize,  amplify,  or  otherwise  adapt  his 
thought  to  particular  hearers. 

PROGRESS 

There  must  be  evidence  of  substantial  progress  being 
made  as  a  speaker  advances  in  his  subject,  otherwise  the 
audience  will  soon  become  weary  and  disinterested.  A 
speech  should  have  an  onward  rising  tendency,  marked  by 
gradually  increasing  volume  of  voice,  earnestness  of  feeling, 
intensity  of  facial  expression  and  greater  breadth  and 
variety  of  gesture.  Once  having  secured  control  of  his 
audience  the  speaker  must  keep  them  so  to  speak  "in  his 
grasp,"  for  should  he  loosen  his  hold  upon  them,  even  for 
a  few  moments,  it  is  doubtful  if  he  could  again  gain  control 
of  them.  There  should  be  special  strong  points  in  the  ad- 
dress, upon  which  the  speaker  has  particularly  prepared 
himself,  all  leading  up,  however,  to  the  great  climax  which 
will  close  his  speech. 

THE    CLIMAX 

In  every  speech  there  is  a  summit  to  be  reached,  and  it 
is  the  duty  of  the  speaker  to  lead  his  audience  to  it  step 
by  step.  If  the  subject  matter  has  been  arranged  in  cli- 
mactic order,  as  it  should  be,  little  difficulty  should  be  ex- 
perienced in  working  up  the  vocal  climax.  Here  the  highest 
powers  of  the  speaker  are  brought  into  play, — voice,  gest- 
ure, facial  expression  and  body  movements, — all  are  sum- 
moned to  aid  him  in  this  final  appeal.  The  man 's  soul  seems 


214  HOW  TO  SPEAK  IN  PUBLIC 

on  fire  as  he  sends  these  last  burning  shafts  of  eloquence 
into  the  minds  and  hearts  of  his  hearers. 

THE    CLOSE 

Frequently  the  climax  closes  the  address,  altho  a  few 
words  may  be  added  in  a  quieter  style  should  it  be  found 
desirable.  These  words  should  be  very  few,  however,  and 
straight  to  the  point.  They  should  be  concise,  important 
and  dignified.  Nothing  is  more  distressing  than  to  have 
a  speech ' '  flatten  out ' '  toward  the  end.  The  closing  argu- 
ment should  be  put,  as  Emerson  says,  into  concrete  shape, — 
some  hard  phrase,  round  and  solid  as  a  ball,  which  the 
people  can  see  and  handle  and  carry  home  with  them. 

AFTERWARD 

After  a  speech  has  been  delivered  and  the  mind  of  the 
speaker  relieved  of  its  weight  of  responsibility,  he  should 
take  the  first  opportunity  to  rest  his  voice  and  abandon 
himself  to  quiet  and  repose.  If  convenient,  a  sleep,  even 
for  a  few  minutes,  will  be  refreshing.  At  a  later  time  he 
can  give  some  consideration  to  the  speech  that  has  been 
delivered,  what  effect  it  has  had  upon  his  audience,  how 
far  it  was  successful  and  in  what  respects  it  failed.  This 
will  suggest  means  of  improvement  in  subsequent  efforts. 
Honest  criticism  or  praise  voluntarily  offered  by  others 
should  be  cheerfully  accepted,  but  it  is  not  wise  nor  dig- 
nified to  invite  discussion  of  the  merits  of  a  speaker's 
address. 

GENERAL   SUGGESTIONS 

1.  Let  your  first  efforts  be  simple. 

2.  Do  your  work  under  the  immediate  inspiration  of 
duty. 


DELIVERY  OF  THE  SPEECH  215 

3.  Be  bold,— but  not  too  bold. 

4.  Make  up  your  mind  to  accept  the  risk.     Failure 
should  lead  to  more  persistent  effort. 

5.  Prepare  twice  as  much  matter  as  you  intend  to  use. 
-•The  memory  is  sometimes  treacherous. 

6.  Cultivate  the  extempore  style  as  soon  as  possible. 

7.  Learn  to  select  your  words  and  cast  your  sentences 
accurately  and  fluently. 

8.  Be  natural,  not  artificial. 

9.  Enunciate  deliberately. 

10.  Regulate  the  pitch  and  force  of  your  voice  by  talk- 
ing to  your  farthest  auditors. 

11.  Conceal  the  bones  in  the  skeleton  of  your  address. 

12.  Avoid  hurry. 

13.  Be  yourself  at  your  best. 

14.  If  you  bow,  do  so  from  the  waist,  not  from  the  neck 

15.  If  your  audience  appears  cold,  warm  them  up. 

16.  Cultivate  concentration. 

17.  Never  let  your  words  overshadow  your  thought. 

18.  Better  stop  too  soon  than  too  late. 


PART    IV 
SELECTIONS    FOR    PRACTISE 


SELECTIONS    FOR   PRACTISE 

CLOSE  OF  THE  ORATION  ON  THE  CROWN 
BY  DEMOSTHENES 

The  people  gave  their  voice,  and  the  danger  that  hung 
upon  our  borders  went  by  like  a  cloud.  Then  was  the  time 
for  the  upright  citizen  to  show  the  world  if  he  could  sug- 
gest anything  better: — now,  his  cavils  come  too  late.  The 
statesman  and  the  adventurer  are  alike  in  nothing,  but 
there  is  nothing  in  which  they  differ  more  than  this.  The 
statesman  declares  his  mind  before  the  event,  and  submits 
himself  to  be  tested  by  those  who  have  believed  him,  by 
fortune,  by  his  own  use  of  opportunities,  by  every  one  and 
everything.  The  adventurer  is  silent  when  he  ought  to  have 
spoken,  and  then,  if  there  is  a  disagreeable  result,  he  fixes 
an  eye  of  malice  upon  that.  As  I  have  said,  then  was  the 
opportunity  of  the  man  who  cared  for  Athens  and  for 
the  assertion  of  justice. 

But  I  am  prepared  to  go  further: — If  any  one  has  had 
a  new  light  as  to  something  which  it  would  have  been  ex- 
pedient to  do  then,  I  protest  that  this  ought  not  to  be  con- 
cealed from  me.  But  if  there  neither  is  nor  was  any  such 
thing;  if  no  one  to  this  very  hour  is  in  a  position  to  name 
it;  then  what  was  your  adviser  to  do?  Was  he  not  to 
choose  the  best  of  the  visible  and  feasible  alternatives  ?  And 
this  is  what  I  did,  ^Eschines,  when  the  herald  asked,  "Who 

219 


220  HOW  TO  SPEAK  IN  PUBLIC 

wishes  to  speak?"  His  question  was  not,  Who  wishes  to 
rake  up  old  accusations?  or,  Who  wishes  to  give  pledges 
of  the  future?  In  those  days  you  sat  dumb  in  the  assem- 
blies. I  came  forward  and  spoke. 

Come  now — it  is  better  late  than  never:  point  out  what 
argument  should  have  been  discovered — what  opportunity 
that  might  have  served  has  not  been  used  by  me  in  the  in- 
terests of  Athens — what  alliance,  what  policy  was  available 
which  I  might  better  have  commended  to  our  citizens? 

As,  however,  he  bears  so  hardly  upon  the  results,  I  am 
ready  to  make  a  statement  which  may  sound  startling.  I 
say  that,  if  the  event  had  been  manifest  to  the  whole  world 
beforehand,  if  all  men  had  been  fully  aware  of  it,  if  you, 
^schines,  who  never  opened  your  lips,  had  been  ever  so 
loud  or  so  shrill  in  prophecy  or  in  protest,  not  even  then 
ought  Athens  to  have  forsaken  this  course,  if  Athens  had 
any  regard  for  her  glory,  or  for  her  past,  or  for  the  ages 
to  come.  Now,  of  course,  she  seems  to  have  failed ;  but  fail- 
ure is  for  all  men  when  Heaven  so  decrees.  In  the  other 
case,  she,  who  claims  the  first  place  in  Greece,  would  have 
renounced  it,  and  would  have  incurred  the  reproach  of 
having  betrayed  all  Greece^  to  Philip.  If  she  had  indeed 
betrayed  without  a  blow  tnose  things  for  which  our  ances- 
tors endured  every  imaginable  danger,  who  would  not  have 
spurned,  ^Eschines,  at  you?  Not  at  Athens — the  gods  for- 
bid— nor  at  me.  In  the  name  of  Zeus,  how  could  we  have 
looked  visitors  in  the  face  if,  things  having  come  to  their 
present  pass,  Philip  having  been  elected  leader  and  lord 
of  all — the  struggle  against  it  had  been  sustained  by  oth- 
ers without  our  help,  and  this,  tho  never  once  in  her  past 
history  our  city  had  preferred  inglorious  safety  to  the  peril- 
ous vindication  of  honor?  What  Greek,  what  barbarian 


SELECTIONS  FOR  PRACTISE  221 

does  not  know  that  the  Thebans,  and  their  predecessors  in 
power,  the  Lacedaemonians,  and  the  Persian  king,  would 
have  been  glad  and  thankful  to  let  Athens  take  anything 
that  she  liked,  besides  keeping  what  she  had  got,  if  she 
would  only  have  done  what  she  was  told,  and  allowed  some 
other  power  to  lead  Greece? 

Such  a  bargain,  however,  was  for  the  Athenians  of  those 
days  neither  conditional,  nor  congenial,  nor  supportable.  In 
the  whole  course  of  her  annals,  no  one  could  ever  persuade 
Athens  to  side  with  dishonest  strength,  to  accept  a  secure 
slavery,  or  to  desist,  at  any  moment  in  her  career,  and  from 
doing  battle  and  braving  danger  for  preeminence,  for 
honor,  and  for  renown. 

You,  Athenians,  find  these  principles  so  worthy  of  ven- 
eration, so  accordant  with  your  own  character,  that  you 
praise  none  of  your  ancestors  so  highly  as  those  who  put 
them  into  action.  You  are  right.  Who  must  not  admire 
the  spirit  of  men  who  were  content  to  quit  their  country, 
and  to  exchange  their  city  for  their  triremes  in  the  cause 
of  resistance  to  dictation ;  who  put  Themistocles,  the  author 
of  his  course,  at  their  head,  while  as  for  Kyrsilos,  the  man 
who  gave  his  voice  for  accepting  the  enemy's  terms,  they 
stoned  him  to  death,  yes,  and  his  wife  was  stoned  by  the 
women  of  Athens?  The  Athenians  of  those  days  were  not 
in  search  of  an  orator  or  a  general  .who  should  help  them 
to  an  agreeable  servitude.  No,  they  would  not  hear  of  life 
itself  if  they  were  not  to  live  free.  Each  one  of  them  held 
that  he  had  been  born  the  son,  not  only  of  his  father  and 
his  mother,  but  of  his  country  also.  And  wherein  is  the 
difference  ?  It  is  here.  He  that  recognizes  no  debt  of  piety 
save  to  his  parents  awaits  his  death  in  the  course  of  destiny 
and  of  nature.  But  he  that  deems  himself  the  son  of  his 


222  HOW  TO  SPEAK  IN  PUBLIC 

country  also  will  be  ready  to  die  sooner  than  see  her  en- 
slaved. In  his  estimate  those  insults,  those  dishonors  which 
must  be  suffered  in  his  city  when  she  has  lost  her  freedom 
will  be  accounted  more  terrible  than  death. 

If  I  presumed  to  say  that  it  was  I  who  thus  inspired  you 
with  a  spirit  worthy  of  your  ancestors,  there  is  not  a  man 
present  who  might  not  properly  rebuke  me.  What  I  do 
maintain  is  that  these  principles  of  conduct  were  your  own ; 
that  this  spirit  existed  in  the  city  before  my  intervention, 
but  that,  in  the  successive  chapters  of  events,  I  had  my 
share  of  merit  as  your  servant.  ^Eschines,  on  the  contrary, 
denounces  our  policy  as  a  whole,  invokes  your  resentment 
against  me  as  the  author  of  the  city's  terrors  and  dangers, 
and,  in  his  anxiety  to  wrest  from  me  the  distinction  of  the 
hour,  robs  you  of  glories  which  will  be  celebrated  as  long 
as  time  endures.  For,  if  you  condemn  Ktesiphon  on  the 
ground  that  my  public  course  was  misdirected,  then  you 
will  be  adjudged  guilty  of  error :  you  will  no  longer  appear 
as  sufferers  by  the  perversity  of  fortune. 

But  never,  Athenians,  never  can  it  be  said  that  you  erred 
when  you  took  upon  you  that  peril  for  the  freedom  and 
safety  of  all.  No,  by  our  fathers  who  met  the  danger  at 
Marathon;  no,  by  our  fathers  who  stood  in  the  ranks  at 
Plataea ;  no,  by  our  fathers  who  did  battle  on  the  waters  of 
Salamis  and  Artemision;  no,  by  all  the  brave  who  sleep  in 
tombs  at  which  their  country  paid  those  last  honors  which 
she  had  awarded,  ^Eschines,  to  all  of  them  alike,  not  alone 
to  the  successful  or  the  victorious!  And  her  award  was 
just.  The  part  of  brave  men  had  been  done  by  all.  The 
fortune  experienced  by  the  individual  among  them  had 
been  allotted  by  a  power  above  man. 

Here  is  the  proof.     Not  when  my  extradition  was  de- 


SELECTIONS  FOR  PRACTISE  223 

manded,  not  when  they  sought  to  arraign  me  before  the 
Amphictyonic  Council,  not  for  all  their  menaces  or  their 
offers,  not  when  they  set  these  villains  like  wild  beasts  upon 
me,  have  I  ever  been  untrue  to  the  loyalty  I  bear  you.  From 
the  outset,  I  chose  the  path  of  a  straightforward  and  right- 
eous statesmanship,  to  cherish  the  dignities,  the  preroga- 
tives, the  glories  of  my  country :  to  exalt  them :  to  stand  by 
their  cause.  I  do  not  go  about  the  market-place  radiant 
with  joy  at  my  country's  disasters,  holding  out  my  hand 
and  telling  my  good  news  to  any  one  who,  I  think,  is  likely 
to  report  it  in  Macedon ;  I  do  not  hear  of  my  country 's  suc- 
cesses with  a  shudder  and  a  groan  and  a  head  bent  to  earth, 
like  the  bad  men  who  pull  Athens  to  pieces,  as  if,  in  so 
doing,  they  were  not  tearing  their  own  reputations  to 
shreds,  who  turn  their  faces  to  foreign  lands,  and,  when 
an  alien  has  triumphed  by  the  ruin  of  the  Greeks,  give  their 
praises  to  that  exploit,  and  vow  that  vigilance  must  be 
used  to  render  that  triumph  eternal. 

Never,  powers  of  Heaven,  may  any  brow  of  the  immortals 
be  bent  in  approval  of  that  prayer.  Rather,  if  it  may  be, 
breathe  even  into  these  men  a  better  mind  and  heart;  but 
if  so  it  is  that  to  these  can  come  no  healing,  then  grant  that 
these,  and  these  alone,  may  perish  utterly  and  early  on  land 
and  on  the  deep :  and  to  us,  the  remnant,  send  the  swiftest 
deliverance  from  the  terrors  gathered  above  our  heads ;  send 
us  the  salvation  that  stands  fast  perpetually. 


224  HOW  TO  SPEAK  IN  PUBLIC 

ORATORY 

BY  HENRY  WARD  BEECHER 

Oratory  has  this  test  and  mark  of  divine  providence,  that 
God,  when  he  makes  things  perfect,  signifies  that  he  is 
done,  by  throwing  over  them  the  robe  of  beauty ;  for  beauty 
is  the  divine  thought  of  excellence.  All  growing  things, 
in  their  earlier  stages,  are  rude.  All  of  them  are  in  vig- 
orous strength,  it  may  be ;  but  not  until  the  blossom  comes, 
and  the  fruit  hangs  pendant,  has  the  vine  evinced  for  what 
it  was  made.  God  is  a  God  of  beauty ;  and  beauty  is  every- 
where the  final  process.  When  things  have  come  to  that, 
they  have  touched  their  limit. 

A  living  force  that  brings  to  itself  all  the  resources  of 
imagination,  all  the  inspirations  of  feeling,  all  that  is  in- 
fluential in  body,  in  voice,  in  eye,  in  gesture,  in  posture, 
in  the  whole  animated  man,  is  in  strict  analogy  with  the 
divine  thought  and  the  divine  arrangement;  and  there  is 
no  misconstruction  more  utterly  untrue  and  fatal  than 
this:  that  oratory  is  an  artificial  thing,  which  deals  with 
baubles  and  trifles,  for  the  sake  of  making  bubbles  of  pleas- 
ure for  transient  effect  on  mercurial  audiences.  So  far 
from  that,  it  is  the  consecration  of  the  whole  man  to  the 
noblest  purposes  to  which  one  can  address  himself — the 
education  and  inspiration  of  his  fellow  men  by  all  that 
there  is  in  learning,  by  all  that  there  is  in  thought,  by  all 
that  there  is  in  feeling,  by  all  that  there  is  in  all  of  them, 
sent  home  through  the  channels  of  taste  and  of  beauty. 
And  so  regarded,  oratory  should  take  its  place  among  the 
highest  departments  of  education. 

But  oratory  is  disregarded  largely ;  and  one  of  the  fruits 
of  this  disregard  is,  that  men  fill  all  the  places  of  power 


SELECTIONS  FOR  PRACTISE   '  225 

with  force  misdirected;  with  energy  not  half  so  fruitful 
as  it  might  be ;  with  sincerity  that  knows  not  how  to  spread 
its  wings  and  fly.  If  you  were  to  trace  and  to  analyze  the 
methods  which  prevail  in  all  the  departments  of  society, 
you  would  find  in  no  other  such  contempt  of  culture,  and 
in  no  other  such  punishment  of  this  contempt. 

How  much  squandering  there  is  of  the  voice!  How  lit- 
tle is  there  of  the  advantage  that  may  come  from  conver- 
sational tones!  How  seldom  does  a  man  dare  to  acquit 
himself  with  pathos  and  fervor!  And  the  men  are  them- 
selves mechanical  and  methodical  in  the  bad  way,  who  are 
most  afraid  of  the  artificial  training  that  is  given  in  the 
schools,  and  who  so  often  show  by  the  fruit  of  their  labor 
that  the  want  of  oratory  is  the  want  of  education. 

How  remarkable  is  sweetness  of  voice  in  the  mother,  in 
the  father,  in  the  household!  The  music  of  no  chorded 
instruments  brought  together  is,  for  sweetness,  like  the 
music  of  familiar  affection  when  spoken  by  brother  and 
sister,  or  by  father  and  mother. 

Conversation  itself  belongs  to  oratory.  How  many  men 
there  are  who  are  weighty  in  argument,  who  have  abundant 
resources,  and  who  are  almost  boundless  in  their  power  at 
other  times  and  in  other  places,  but  who,  when  in  company 
among  their  kind,  are  exceedingly  unapt  in  their  methods. 
Having  none  of  the  secret  instruments  by  which  the  ele- 
ments of  nature  may  be  touched,  having  no  skill  and  no 
power  in  this  direction,  they  stand  as  machines  before 
living,  sensitive  men.  A  man  may  be  as  a  master  before 
an  instrument ;  only  the  instrument  is  dead ;  and  he  has  the 
living  hand;  and  out  of  that  dead  instrument  what  won- 
drous harmony  springs  forth  at  his  touch!  And  if  you 
can  electrify  an  audience  by  the  power  of  a  living  man  on 


226  HOW  TO  SPEAK  IN  PUBLIC 

dead  things,  how  much  more  should  that  audience  be  elec- 
trified when  the  chords  are  living  and  the  man  is  alive,  and 
he  knows  how  to  touch  them  with  divine  inspiration ! 

I  advocate,  therefore,  in  its  full  extent,  and  for  every 
reason  of  humanity,  of  patriotism,  and  of  religion,  a  more 
thorough  culture  of  oratory. 

First,  in  the  orator,  is  the  man.  Let  no  man  who  is  a 
sneak  try  to  be  an  orator.  A  man  who  is  to  be  an  orator 
must  have  something  to  say.  He  must  have  something  that 
in  his  very  soul  he  feels  to  be  worth  saying.  He  must  have 
in  his  nature  that  kindly  sympathy  which  connects  him  with 
his  fellow  men,  and  which  so  makes  him  a  part  of  the  audi- 
ence which  he  moves  that  his  smile  is  their  smile,  that  his 
tear  is  their  tear,  and  that  the  throb  of  his  heart  becomes 
the  throb  of  the  hearts  of  the  whole  assembly.  A  man  that 
is  humane,  a  lover  of  his  kind,  full  of  all  earnest  and  sweet 
sympathy  for  their  welfare,  has  in  him  the  original  element, 
the  substance,  of  oratory,  which  is  truth ;  but  in  this  world 
truth  needs  nursing  and  helping ;  it  needs  every  advantage ; 
for  the  underflow  of  life  is  animal,  and  the  channels  of  hu- 
man society  have  been  taken  possession  of  by  lower  influ- 
ences beforehand.  The  devil  squatted  on  human  territory 
before  the  angel  came  to  dispossess  him.  Pride  and  intoler- 
ance, arrogance  and  its  cruelty,  selfishness  and  its  greed, 
all  the  lower  appetites  and  passions,  swarm,  and  hold  in 
thrall  the  under-man  that  each  one  of  us  yet  carries — the 
man  of  flesh,  on  which  the  spirit-man  seeks  to  ride  and  by 
which  too  often  he  is  thrown  and  trampled  under  foot. 
The  truth,  in  its  attempt  to  wean  the  better  from  the  worse, 
needs  every  auxiliary  and  every  adjuvant. 

The  first  work,  therefore,  is  to  teach  a  man's  body  to 
serve  his  soul ;  and  in  this  work,  the  education  of  the  bod- 


SELECTIONS  FOR  PRACTISE  227 

ily  presence  is  the  very  first  step.  What  power  there  is  in 
posture  and  in  gesture!  By  it,  how  many  discriminations 
are  made ;  how  many  smooth  things  are  rolled  off ;  how  many 
complex  things  men  are  made  to  comprehend ! 

Among  other  things,  the  voice — perhaps  the  most  im- 
portant of  all,  and  the  least  cultured — should  not  be  for- 
gotten. The  human  voice  is  like  an  orchestra.  It  ranges 
high  up,  and  can  shriek  betimes  like  the  scream  of  an  eagle 
or  it  is  low  as  a  lion 's  tone ;  and  at  every  intermediate  point 
is  some  peculiar  quality.  It  has  in  it  the  mother's  whisper 
and  the  father's  command.  It  has  in  it  warning  and  alarm. 
It  has  in  it  sweetness.  It  is  full  of  mirth  and  full  of  gaiety. 
It  glitters,  tho  it  is  not  seen  with  all  its  sparkling  fan- 
cies. It  ranges  high,  intermediate,  or  low,  in  obedience  to 
the  will,  unconsciously  to  him  who  uses  it;  and  men  listen 
through  the  long  hour,  wondering  that  it  is  so  short,  and 
quite  unaware  that  they  have  been  bewitched  out  of  their 
weariness  by  the  charm  of  a  voice, .  not  artificial,  not  pre- 
arranged in  the  man's  thought,  but  by  assiduous  training 
made  to  be  his  highest  nature.  Such  a  voice  answers  to  the 
soul,  and  is  its  beating. 

"But,"  it  is  said,  "does  not  the  voice  come  by  nature?" 
Yes ;  but  is  there  anything  that  comes  by  nature  which  stays 
as  it  comes,  if  it  is  worthily  handled  ?  We  receive  one  talent 
that  we  may  make  it  five ;  and  we  receive  five  talents  that 
we  make  them  ten.  There  is  no  one  thing  in  man  that  he 
has  in  perfection  till  he  has  it  by  culture.  We  know  that 
in  respect  to  everything  but  the  voice.  Is  not  the  ear 
trained  to  acute  hearing  ?  Is  not  the  eye  trained  in  science  ? 
Do  men  not  school  the  eye,  and  make  it  quick-seeing  by 
patient  use  ?  Is  a  man,  because  he  has  learned  a  trade,  and 
was  not  born  to  it,  thought  to  be  less  a  man?  Because  we 


228  HOW  TO  SPEAK  IN  PUBLIC 

have  made  discoveries  of  science,  and  adapted  them  to 
manufacture;  because  we  have  developed  knowledge  by 
training,  are  we  thought  to  be  unmanly  ?  Shall  we,  because 
we  have  unfolded  our  powers  by  the  use  of  ourselves  for 
that  noblest  of  purposes,  the  inspiration  and  elevation  of 
mankind,  be  less  esteemed?  Is  the  school  of  human  train- 
ing to  be  disdained,  when  by  it  we  are  rendered  more  useful 
to  our  fellow  men  ? 

If  you  go  from  our  land  to  other  lands;  if  you  go  to 
the  land  which  has  been  irradiated  by  parliamentary  elo- 
quence; if  you  go  to  the  people  of  Great  Britain;  if  you 
go  to  the  great  men  in  ancient  times  who  lived  in  the  in- 
tellect; if  you  go  to  the  illustrious  names  that  every  one 
recalls — Demosthenes  and  Cicero — they  represent  a  life 
of  work. 

Not  until  Michael  Angelo  had  been  the  servant  and  the 
slave  of  matter,  did  he  learn  to  control  matter;  and  not 
until  he  had  drilled  and  drilled  and  drilled  himself  were  his 
touches  free  and  easy  as  the  breath  of  summer,  and  full  of 
color  as  the  summer  itself.  Not  until  Raphael  had  subdued 
himself  by  color,  was  he  the  crowning  artist  of  beauty.  You 
shall  not  find  one  great  sculptor,  nor  one  great  architect, 
nor  one  great  painter,  nor  one  eminent  man  in  any  depart- 
ment of  art,  nor  one  great  scholar,  nor  one  great  statesman, 
nor  one  divine  of  universal  gifts,  whose  greatness,  if  you 
inquire,  you  will  not  find  to  be  the  fruit  of  study,  and  of 
the  evolution  that  comes  from  study. 

Great  is  the  advance  of  civilization;  mighty  are  the  en- 
gines of  force,  but  man  is  greater  than  that  which  he  pro- 
duces. Vast  is  that  machine  which  stands  in  the  dark, 
unconsciously  lifting,  lifting — the  only  humane  slave — the 
iron  slave — the  Corliss  engine ;  but  he  that  made  the  engine 


SELECTIONS  FOR  PRACTISE  220 

is  greater  than  the  engine  itself.  Wonderful  is  the  skill 
by  which  that  most  exquisite  mechanism  of  modern  life, 
the  watch,  is  constructed ;  but  greater  is  the  man  that  made 
the  watch  than  the  watch  that  is  made.  Great  is  the  Press, 
great  are  the  hundred  instrumentalities  and  institutions 
and  customs  of  society;  but  above  them  all  is  man.  The 
living  force  is  greater  than  any  of  its  creations — greater 
than  society,  greater  than  the  laws.  "The  Sabbath  was 
made  for  man,  and  not  man  for  the  Sabbath,"  saith  the 
Lord.  Man  is  greater  than  his  own  institutions.  And  this 
living  force  is  worthy  of  all  culture — of  all  culture  in  the 
power  of  beauty ;  of  all  culture  in  the  direction  of  persua- 
sion ;  of  all  culture  in  the  art  of  reasoning. 

To  make  men  patriots,  to  make  men  Christians,  to  make 
men  the  sons  of  God,  let  all  the  doors  of  heaven  be  opened, 
and  let  God  drop  down  charmed  gifts — winged  imagination, 
all-perceiving  reason,  and  all- judging  reason.  Whatever 
there  is  that  can  make  men  wiser  and  better — let  it  descend 
upon  the  head  of  him  who  has  consecrated  himself  to  the 
work  of  mankind,  and  who  has  made  himself  an  orator  for 
man's  sake  and  for  God's  sake. 


ON  THE  AMERICAN  WAR 
BY   LORD    CHATHAM 

I  cannot,  my  lords,  I  will  not,  join  in  congratulation  on 
misfortune  and  disgrace.  This,  my  lords,  is  a  perilous  and 
tremendous  moment.  It  is  not  a  time  for  adulation;  the 
smoothness  of  flattery  cannot  save  us  in  this  rugged  and 
awful  crisis.  It  is  now  necessary  to  instruct  the  throne  in 
the  language  of  truth.  We  must,  if  possible,  dispel  the 


230  HOW  TO  SPEAK  IN  PUBLIC 

delusion  and  darkness  which  envelop  it;  and  display,  in 
its  full  danger  and  genuine  colors,  the  ruin  which  is  brought 
to  our  doors.  Can  ministers  still  presume  to  expect  sup- 
port in  their  infatuation?  Can  parliament  be  so  dead  to 
its  dignity  and  duty,  as  to  give  its  support  to  measures  thus 
obtruded  and  forced  upon  it.  Measures,  my  lords,  which 
have  reduced  this  late  flourishing  empire  to  scorn  and  con- 
tempt! ''But  yesterday,  and  Britain  might  have  stood 
against  the  world:  now,  none  so  poor  as  to  do  her  rever- 
ence ! ' '  The  people,  whom  we  at  first  despised  as  rebels,  but 
whom  we  now  acknowledge  as  enemies,  are  abetted  against 
us,  supplied  with  every  military  store,  have  their  interests 
consulted,  and  their  ambassadors  entertained,  by  our  in- 
veterate enemy;  and  ministers  do  not — and  dare  not— in- 
terpose with  dignity  or  effect.  The  desperate  state  of  our 
army  abroad  is  in  part  known.  No  man  more  highly  es- 
teems and  honors  the  British  troops  than  I  do ;  I  know  their 
virtues  and  their  valor;  I  know  they  can  achieve  anything 
but  impossibilities;  and  I  know  that  the  conquest  of  Brit- 
ish America  is  an  impossibility.  You  cannot,  my  lords, 
you  cannot  conquer  America.  What  is  your  present  situa- 
tion there?  We  do  not  know  the  worst;  but  we  do  know 
that,  in  three  campaigns,  we  have  done  nothing,  and  suf- 
fered much.  You  may  swell  every  expense,  accumulate 
every  assistance,  and  extend  your  traffic  to  the  shambles 
of  every  German  despot ;  your  attempts  will  be  forever  vain 
and  impotent — doubly  so,  indeed,  from  this  mercenary  aid 
on  which  you  rely;  for  it  irritates,  to  an  incurable  resent- 
ment, the  minds  of  your  adversaries,  to  overrun  them  with 
the  mercenary  sons  of  rapine  and  plunder,  devoting  them 
and  their  possessions  to  the  rapacity  of  hireling  cruelty. 
If  I  were  an  American,  as  I  am  an  Englishman,  while  a 


SELECTIONS  FOR  PRACTISE  231 

foreign  troop  was  landed  in  my  country,  I  never  would  lay 
down  my  arms — never,  never,  never! 

But,  my  lords,  who  is  the  man,  that,  in  addition  to  the 
disgraces  and  mischiefs  of  the  war,  has  dared  to  authorize 
and  associate,  to  our  arms,  the  tomahawk  and  scalping-knif  e 
of  the  savage  ? — to  call,  into  civilized  alliance,  the  wild  and 
inhuman  inhabitant  of  the  woods? — to  delegate,  to  the 
merciless  Indian,  the  defense  of  disputed  rights,  and  to  wage 
the  horrors  of  his  barbarous  war  against  our  brethren  ?  My 
lords,  these  enormities  cry  aloud  for  redress  and  punish- 
ment. But,  my  lords,  this  barbarous  measure  has  been 
defended,  not  only  on  the  principles  of  policy  r,nd  neces- 
sity, but  also  those  of  morality;  "for  it  is  perfectly  allow- 
able," says  Lord  Suffolk,  "to  use  all  the  means  that  God 
and  nature  have  put  into  our  hands. ' '  I  am  astonished.  I  am 
shocked,  to  hear  such  principles  confessed;  to  hear  them 
avowed  in  this  House,  or  in  this  country.  My  lords,  I  did 
not  intend  to  encroach  upon  so  much  of  your  attention,  but 
I  can  not  repress  my  indignation — I  feel  myself  impelled 
to  speak.  My  lords,  we  are  called  upon,  as  members  of  this 
House,  as  men,  as  Christians,  to  protest  against  such  horri- 
ble barbarity! — "That  God  and  nature  have  put  into  our 
hands!"  What  ideas  of  God  and  nature  that  noble  lord 
may  entertain,  I  know  not ;  but  I  know  that  such  detestable 
principles  are  equally  abhorrent  to  religion  and  humanity. 
What!  to  attribute  the  sacred  sanction  of  God  and  nature 
to  the  massacres  of  the  Indian  scalping-knif  e ! — to  the  can- 
nibal savage,  torturing,  murdering,  devouring,  drinking  the 
blood  of  his  mangled  victims!  Such  notions  shock  every 
precept  of  morality,  every  feeling  of  humanity,  every  sen- 
timent of  honor.  These  abominable  principles,  and  this 
more  abominable  avowal  of  them,  demand  the  most  decisive 
indignation ! 


232  HOW  TO  SPEAK  IN  PUBLIC 

IMPEACHMENT  OF  WARREN   HASTINGS 
BY  EDMUND  BURKE 

In  the  name  of  the  Commons  of  England,  I  charge  all 
this  villainy  upon  Warren  Hastings,  in  this  last  moment  of 
my  application  to  you. 

My  lords,  what  is  it  that  we  want  here  to  a  great  act 
of  national  justice  ?  Do  we  want  a  cause,  my  lords  ?  You 
have  the  cause  of  oppressed  princes,  of  undone  women  of 
the  first  rank,  of  desolated  provinces,  and  of  wasted  king- 
doms. 

Do  you  \vant  a  criminal,  my  lords?  When  was  there  so 
much  iniquity  ever  laid  to  the  charge  of  any  one?  No, 
my  lords,  you  must  not  look  to  punish  any  other  such  de- 
linquent from  India.  Warren  Hastings  has  not  left  sub- 
stance enough  in  India  to  nourish  such  another  delinquent. 

My  lords,  is  it  a  prosecutor  you  want  ?  You  have  before 
you  the  Commons  of  Great  Britain  as  prosecutors;  and  I 
believe,  my  lords,  that  the  sun,  in  his  beneficent  progress 
round  the  world,  does  not  behold  a  more  glorious  sight  than 
that  of  men,  separated  from  a  remote  people  by  the  mate- 
rial bonds  and  barriers  of  nature,  united  by  the  bond  of  a 
social  and  moral  community — all  the  Commons  of  England 
resenting,  as  their  own,  the  indignities  and  cruelties,  that 
are  offered  to  all  the  people  of  India. 

Do  we  want  a  tribunal?  My  lords,  no  example  of  an- 
tiquity, nothing  in  the  modern  world,  nothing  in  the  range 
of  human  imagination,  can  supply  us  with  a  tribunal  like 
this.  My  lords,  here  we  see  virtually,  in  the  mind's  eye, 
that  sacred  majesty  of  the  Crown,  under  whose  authority 
you  sit  and  whose  power  you  exercise. 


SELECTIONS  FOR  PRACTISE  233 

We  have  here  all  the  branches  of  the  royal  family,  in  a 
situation  between  majesty  and  subjection,  between  the  sov- 
ereign and  the  subject — offering  a  pledge,  in  that  situation, 
for  the  support  of  the  rights  of  the  Crown  and  the  liberties 
of  the  people,  both  of  which  extremities  they  touch. 

My  lords,  we  have  a  great  hereditary  peerage  here ;  those 
who  have  their  own  honor,  the  honor  of  their  ancestors, 
and  of  their  posterity,  to  guard,  and  who  will  justify,  as 
they  always  have  justified,  that  provision  in  the  Constitu- 
tion by  which  justice  is  made  an  hereditary  office. 

My  lords,  we  have  here  a  new  nobility,  who  have  risen, 
and  exalted  themselves  by  various  merits,  by  great  civil 
and  military  services,  which  have  extended  the  fame  of 
this  country  from  the  rising  to  the  setting  sun. 

My  lords,  you  have  here,  also,  the  lights  of  our  religion; 
you  have  the  bishops  of  England.  My  lords,  you  have  that 
true  image  of  the  primitive  Church  in  its  ancient  form,  in 
its  ancient  ordinances,  purified  from  the  superstitions  and 
the  vices  which  a  long  succession  of  ages  will  bring  upon 
the  best  institutions. 

My  lords,  these  are  the  securities  which  we  have  in  all 
the  constituent  parts  of  the  body  of  this  House.  We  know 
them,  we  reckon,  we  rest  upon  them,  and  commit  safely  the 
interests  of  India  and  of  humanity  into  your  hands.  There- 
fore, it  is  with  confidence,  that,  ordered  by  the  Commons, 
I  impeach  Warren  Hastings,  Esquire,  of  high  crimes  and 
misdemeanors. 

I  impeach  him  in  the  name  of  the  Commons  of  Great 
Britain,  in  Parliament  assembled,  whose  parliamentary 
trust  he  has  betrayed. 

I  impeach  him  in  the  name  of  all  the  Commons  of  Great 
Britain,  whose  national  character  he  has  dishonored. 


234  HOW  TO  SPEAK  IN  PUBLIC 

I  impeach  him  in  the  name  of  the  people  of  India,  whose 
laws,  rights,  and  liberties  he  has  subverted,  whose  property 
he  has  destroyed,  whose  country  he  has  laid  waste  and 
desolate. 

I  impeach  him  in  the  name,  and  by  virtue  of  those  eternal 
laws  of  justice  which  he  has  violated. 

I  impeach  him  in  the  name  of  human  nature  itself,  which 
he  has  cruelly  outraged,  injured  and  oppressed,  in  both 
sexes,  in  every  age,  rank,  situation,  and  condition  of  life. 

My  lords,  the  Commons  will  share  in  every  fate  with 
your  lordships;  there  is  nothing  sincere  which  can  happen 
to  you,  in  which  we  shall  not  be  involved ;  and,  if  it  should 
so  happen,  that  we  shall  be  subjected  to  some  of  those  fright- 
ful changes  which  we  have  seen;  if  it  should  happen  that 
your  lordships,  stripped  of  all  the  decorous  distinctions 
of  human  society,  should,  by  hands  at  once  base  and  cruel, 
be  led  to  those  scaffolds  and  machines  of  murder  upon 
which  great  kings  and  glorious  queens  have  shed  their  blood, 
amidst  the  prelates,  amidst  the  nobles,  amidst  the  magis- 
trates, who  supported  their  thrones, — may  you  in  those 
moments  feel  that"  consolation  which  I  am  persuaded  they 
felt  in  the  critical  moments  of  their  dreadful  agony ! 

My  lords,  there  is  a  consolation,  and  a  great  consolation 
it  is,  which  often  happens  to  oppressed  virtue  and  fallen 
dignity;  it  often  happens  that  the  very  oppressors  and 
persecutors  themselves  are  forced  to  bear  testimony  in  its 
favor.  The  Parliament  of  Paris  had  an  origin  very,  very 
similar  to  that  of  the  great  court  before  which  I  stand ;  the 
Parliament  of  Paris  continued  to  have  a  great  resemblance 
to  it  in  its  Constitution,  even  to  its  fall ;  the  Parliament  of 
Paris,  my  lords, — WAS;  it  is  gone!  It  has  passed  away; 
it  has  vanished  like  a  dream !  It  fell  pierced  by  the  sword 


SELECTIONS  FOR  PRACTISE  235 

of  the  Comte  de  Mirabeau.  And  yet  that  man,  at  the  time 
of  his  inflicting  the  death-wound  of  that  Parliament,  pro- 
duced at  once  the  shortest  and  the  grandest  funeral  oration 
that  ever  was  or  could  be  made  upon  the  departure  of  a 
great  court  of  magistracy.  When  he  pronounced  the  death 
sentence  upon  that  Parliament,  and  inflicted  the  mortal 
wound,  he  declared  that  his  motives  for  doing  it  were  merely 
political,  and  that  their  hands  were  as  pure  as  those  of 
justice  itself,  which  they  administered — a  great  and  glorious 
exit,  my  lords,  of  a  great  and  glorious  body ! 

My.  lords,  if  you  must  fall,  may  you  so  fall!  But,  if 
you  stand,  and  stand  I  trust  you  will,  together  with  the 
fortunes  of  this  ancient  monarchy — together  with  the  an- 
cient laws  and  liberties  of  this  great  and  illustrious  king- 
dom, may  you  stand  as  unimpeached  in  honor  as  in  power ; 
may  you  stand,  not  as  a  substitute  for  virtue,  but  as  an 
ornament  of  virtue,  as  a  security  for  virtue ;  may  you  stand 
long,  and  long  stand  the  terror  of  tyrants;  may  you  stand 
the  refuge  of  afflicted  nations;  may  you  stand  a  sacred 
temple,  for  the  perpetual  residence  of  an  inviolable  justice ! 


THE  FORCE   BILL 
BY  JOHN   CALDWELL   CALHOUN 

It  is  said  that  the  bill  ought  to  pass,  because  the  law  must 
be  enforced.  The  law  must  be  enforced!  The  imperial 
edict  must  be  executed !  It  is  under  such  sophistry,  couched 
in  general  terms,  without  looking  to  the  limitations  which 
must  ever  exist  in  the  practical  exercise  of  power,  that  the 
most  cruel  and  despotic  acts 'ever  have  been  covered.  It 
was  such  sophistry  as  this  that  cast  Daniel  into  the  lion's 


236  HOW  TO  SPEAK  IN  PUBLIC 

den,  and  the  three  Innocents  into  the  fiery  furnace.  Under 
the  same  sophistry  the  bloody  edicts  of  Nero  and  Caligula 
were  executed.  The  law  must  be  enforced.  Yes,  the  act 
imposing  the  "tea- tax  must  be  executed."  This  was  the 
very  argument  which  impelled  Lord  North  and  his  adminis- 
tration to  that  mad  career  which  forever  separated  us  from 
the  British  crown.  Under  a  similar  sophistry,  that '  *  religion 
must  be  protected,"  how  many  massacres  have  been  per- 
petrated? and  how  many  martyrs  have  been  tied  to  the 
stake?  What!  acting  on  this  vague  abstraction,  are  you 
prepared  to  enforce  a  law  without  considering  whether  it 
be  just  or  unjust,  constitutional  or  unconstitutional  ?  Will 
you  collect  money  when  it  is  acknowledged  that  it  is  not 
wanted?  He  who  earns  the  money,  who  digs  it  from  the 
earth  with  the  sweat  of  his  brow,  has  a  just  title  to  it  against 
the  universe.  No  one  has  a  right  to  touch  it  without  his 
consent  except  his  government,  and  this  only  to  the  extent 
of  its  legitimate  wants;  to  take  more  is  robbery,  and  you 
propose  by  this  bill  to  enforce  robbery  by  murder.  Yes :  to 
this  result  you  must  come,  by  this  miserable  sophistry,  this 
vague  abstraction  of  enforcing  the  law,  without  a  regard 
to  the  fact  whether  the  law  be  just  or  unjust,  constitutional 
or  unconstitutional. 

In  the  same  spirit  we  are  told  that  the  Union  must  be 
preserved,  without  regard  to  the  means.  And  how  is  it 
proposed  to  preserve  the  Union  ?  By  force !  Does  any  man 
in  his  senses  believe  that  this  beautiful  structure — this  har- 
monious aggregate  of  States,  produced  by  the  joint  consent 
of  all — can  be  preserved  by  force?  Its  very  introduction 
will  be  certain  destruction  to  this  Federal  Union.  No,  no. 
You  cannot  keep  the  States  united  in  their  constitutional 
and  federal  bonds  by  force.  Force  may,  indeed,  hold  the 


SELECTIONS  FOR  PRACTISE  237 

parts  together,  but  such  union  would  be  the  bond  between 
master  and  slave — a  union  of  exaction  on  one  side  and  of 
unqualified  obedience  on  the  other.  That  obedience  which, 
we  are  told  by  the  Senator  from  Pennsylvania,  is  the  Union ! 
Yes,  exaction  on  the  side  of  the  master;  for  this  very  bill 
is  intended  to  collect  what  can  be  no  longer  called  taxes — 
the  voluntary  contribution  of  a  free  people — but  tribute — 
tribute  to  be  collected  under  the  mouths  of  the  cannon! 
Your  custom-house  is  already  transferred  to  a  garrison,  and 
that  garrison  with  its  batteries  turned,  not  against  the 
enemy  of  your  country,  but  on  subjects  (I  will  not  say 
citizens),  on  whom  you  propose  to  levy  contributions.  Has 
reason  fled  from  our  borders?  Have  we  ceased  to  reflect? 
It  is  madness  to  suppose  that  the  Union  can  be  preserved 
by  force.  I  tell  you  plainly  that  the  bill,  should  it  pass, 
can  not  be  enforced.  It  will  prove  only  a  blot  upon  your 
statute-book,  a  reproach  to  the  year,  and  a  disgrace  to  the 
American  Senate.  I  repeat,  it  will  not  be  executed ;  it  will 
rouse  the  dormant  spirit  of  the  people,  and  open  their  eyes 
to  the  approach  of  despotism.  The  country  has  sunk  into 
avarice  and  political  corruption,  from  which  nothing  can 
arouse  it  but  some  measure,  on  the  part  of  the  Government, 
of  folly  and  madness,  such  as  that  now  under  consideration. 

DEFENSE   OF  JOHN    STOCKDALE 

BY   LORD   ERSKINE 

Gentlemen,  I  hope  I  have  now  performed  my  duty  to 
my  client — I  sincerely  hope  that  I  have;  for,  certainly,  if 
ever  there  was  a  man  pulled  the  other  way  by  his  interests 
and  affections,  if  ever  there  was  a  man  who  should  have 
trembled  at  the  situation  in  which  I  have  been  placed  on 


238  HOW  TO  SPEAK  IN  PUBLIC 

this  occasion,  it  is  myself,  who  not  only  love,  honor,  and 
respect,  but  whose  future  hopes  and  preferments  are  linked, 
from  free  choice,  with  those  who,  from  the  mistakes  of  the 
author,  are  treated  with  great  severity  and  injustice.  These 
are  strong  retardments ;  but  I  have  been  urged  on  to  activity 
by  considerations  which  can  never  be  inconsistent  with  hon- 
orable attachments,  either  in  the  political  or  social  world — 
the  love  of  justice  and  of  liberty,  and  a  zeal  for  the  Con- 
stitution of  my  country,  which  is  the  inheritance  of  our 
posterity,  of  the  public,  and  of  the  world.  These  are  the 
motives  which  have  animated  me  in  defense  of  this  person, 
who  is  an  entire  stranger  to  me ;  whose  shop  I  never  go  to ; 
and  the  author  of  whose  publication — or  Mr.  Hastings,  who 
is  the  object  of  it — I  never  spoke  to  in  my  life. 

One  word  more,  gentlemen,  and  I  have  done.  Every 
human  tribunal  ought  to  take  care  to  administer  justice  as 
we  look  hereafter  to  have  justice  administered  to  ourselves. 
Upon  the  principle  on  which  the  attorney-general  prays 
sentence  upon  my  client — God  have  mercy  upon  us.  Instead 
of  standing  before  Him  in  judgment  with  the  hopes  and 
consolations  of  Christians,  we  must  call  upon  the  mountains 
to  cover  us;  for  which  of  us  can  present,  for  omniscient 
examination,  a  pure,  unspotted,  and  faultless  course?  But 
I  humbly  expect  that  the  benevolent  Author  of  our  being 
will  judge  us  as  I  have  been  pointing  out  for  your  example. 
Holding  up  the  great  volume  of  our  lives  in  His  hands,  and 
regarding  the  general  scope  of  them — if  He  discovers  be- 
nevolence, charity,  and  good  will  to  man  beating  in  the 
heart,  where  He  alone  can  look;  if  He  finds  that  our  con- 
duct, tho  often  forced  out  of  the  path  by  infirmities,  has 
been  in  general  well  directed;  His  all-searching  eye  will 
assuredly  never  pursue  us  into  those  little  corners  of  our 


SELECTIONS  FOR  PRACTISE  239 

lives;  much  less  will  His  judgment  select  them  for  punish- 
ment without  the  general  context  of  our  existence,  by  which 
faults  may  be  sometimes  found  to  have  grown  out  of  vir- 
tues, and  very  many  of  our  heaviest  offenses  to  have  been 
grafted  by  human  imperfection  upon  the  best  and  kindest 
of  our  affections.  No,  gentlemen,  believe  me,  this  is  not 
the  course  of  divine  justice,  or  there  is  no  truth  in  the 
Gospels  of  Heaven.  If  the  general  tenor  of  a  man's  con- 
duct be  such  as  I  have  represented  it,  he  may  walk  through 
the  shadow  of  death,  with  all  his  faults  about  him,  with  as 
much  cheerfulness  as  in  the  common  paths  of  life;  because 
he  knows  that,  instead  of  a  stern  accuser  to  expose  before 
the  Author  of  his  nature  those  frail  passages  which,  like 
the  scored  matter  in  the  book  before  you,  checker  the  volume 
of  the  brightest  and  best  spent  life,  His  mercy  will  obscure 
them  from  the  eye  of  His  purity,  and  our  repentance  blot 
them  out  forever. 

All  this  would,  I  admit,  be  perfectly  foreign  and  irrel- 
evant if  you  were  sitting  here  in  a  case  of  property  between 
man  and  man,  where  a  strict  rule  of  law  must  operate,  or 
there  would  be  an  end  of  civil  life  and  society.  It  would 
be  equally  foreign,  and  still  more  irrelevant,  if  applied  to 
those  shameful  attacks  upon  private  reputation  which  are 
the  bane  and  disgrace  of  the  Press ;  by  which  whole  families 
have  been  rendered  unhappy  during  life  by  aspersions  cruel, 
scandalous,  and  unjust.  Let  such  libelers  remember  that 
no  one  of  my  principles  of  defense  can,  at  any  time,  or  upon 
any  occasion,  ever  apply  to  shield  them  from  punishment; 
because  such  conduct  is  not  only  an  infringement  of  the 
rights  of  men,  as  they  are  defined  by  strict  law,  but  is  ab- 
solutely incompatible  with  honor,  honesty,  or  mistaken  good 
intentions.  On  such  men  let  the  attorney-general  bring 


240  HOW  TO  SPEAK  IN  PUBLIC 

forth  all  the  artillery  of  his  office,  and  thanks  and  blessings 
of  the  whole  public  will  follow  him.  But  this  is  a  totally 
different  case.  Whatever  private  calumny  may  mark  this 
work,  it  has  not  been  made  the  subject  of  complaint,  and 
we  have  therefore  nothing  to  do  with  that,  nor  any  right 
to  consider  it.  We  are  trying  whether  the  public  could  have 
been  considered  as  offended  and  endangered  if  Mr.  Hastings 
himself,  in  whose  place  the  author  and  publisher  have  a 
right  to  place  themselves,  had,  under  all  the  circumstances 
which  have  been  considered,  composed  and  published  the 
volume  under  examination.  That  question  can  not,  in  com- 
mon sense,  be  anything  resembling  a  question  of  law,  but 
is  a  pure  question  of  fact,  to  be  decided  on  the  principles 
which  I  have  humbly  recommended.  I  therefore  ask  of  the 
Court  that  the  book  itself  may  now  be  delivered  to  you. 
Read  it  with  attention,  and  as  you  shall  find  it,  pronounce 
your  verdict. 


ADDRESS  TO  THE  YOUNG  MEN   OF  ITALY 
BY   JOSEPH   MAZZINI 

When  I  was  commissioned  by  you,  young  men,  to  proffer 
in  this  temple  a  few  words  consecrated  to  the  memory  of 
the  brothers  Bandiera,  and  their  fellow  martyrs  at  Cosenza, 
I  thought  that  some  one  of  those  who  heard  me  might,  per- 
haps, exclaim,  with  noble  indignation,  "Why  thus  lament 
over  the  dead?  The  martyrs  of  liberty  are  only  worthily 
honored  by  winning  the  battle  they  have  begun.  Cosenza, 
the  land  where  they  fell,  is  enslaved;  Venice,  the  city  of 
their  birth,  is  begirt  with  strangers.  Let  us  emancipate 
them;  and,  until  that  moment,  let  no  words  pass  our  lips, 


SELECTIONS  FOR  PRACTISE  241 

save  those  of  war."  But  another  thought  arose,  and  sug- 
gested to  me,  Why  have  we  not  conquered  ?  Why  is  it  that, 
while  our  countrymen  are  fighting  for  independence  in  the 
north  of  Italy,  liberty  is  perishing  in  the  south?  Why  is 
it  that  a  war  which  should  have  sprung  to  the  Alps  with 
the  bound  of  a  lion  has  dragged  itself  along  for  four  months 
with  the  slow,  uncertain  motion  of  the  scorpion  surrounded 
by  the  circle  of  fire?  How  has  the  rapid  and  powerful 
intuition  of  a  People  newly  arisen  to  life  been  converted 
into  the  weary,  helpless  effort  of  the  sick  man,  turning  from 
side  to  side? 

Ah !  had  we  all  arisen  in  the  sanctity  of  the  idea  for  which 
our  martyrs  died;  had  the  holy  standard  of  their  faith 
preceded  our  youth  to  battle;  had  we  made  of  our  every 
thought  an  action,  and  of  our  every  action  a  thought;  had 
we  learned  from  them  that  liberty  and  independence  are 
one; — we  should  not  now  have  war,  but  victory!  Cosenza 
would  not  be  compelled  to  venerate  the  memory  of  her  mar- 
tyrs in  secret,  nor  Venice  be  restrained  from  honoring  them 
with  a  monument;  and  we,  here  gathered  together,  might 
gladly  invoke  those  sacred  names,  without  uncertainty  as 
to  our  future  destiny,  or  a  cloud  of  sadness  on  our  brows; 
and  might  say  to  those  precursor  souls,  "Rejoice,  for  your 
spirit  is  incarnate  in  your  brethren,  and  they  are  worthy 
of  you."  Could  Attilio  and  Emilio  Bandiera,  and  their 
fellow  martyrs,  now  arise  from  the  grave  and  speak  to  you, 
they  would,  believe  me,  address  you,  tho  with  a  power 
very  different  from  that  given  to  me,  in  counsel  not  unlike 
that  which  now  I  utter. 

Love !  Love  is  the  flight  of  the  soul  toward  God :  toward 
the  great,  the  sublime,  and  the  beautiful,  which  are  the 
shadow  of  God  upon  earth.  Love  your  family ;  the  partner 


242  HOW  TO  SPEAK  IN  PUBLIC 

of  your  life;  those  around  you,  ready  to  share  your  joys 
and  sorrows ;  the  dead,  who  were  dear  to  you,  and  to  whom 
you  were  dear.  Love  your  country.  It  is  your  name,  your 
glory,  your  sign  among  the  Peoples.  Give  to  it  your  thought, 
your  counsel,  your  blood.  You  are  twenty-four  millions 
of  men,  endowed  with  active,  splendid  faculties;  with  a 
tradition  of  glory,  the  envy  of  the  Nations  of  Europe.  An 
immense  future  is  before  you — your  eyes  are  raised  to  the 
loveliest  Heaven,  and  around  you  smiles  the  loveliest  land- 
in  Europe;  you  are  encircled  by  the  Alps  and  the  sea, 
boundaries  marked  out  by  the  finger  of  God  for  a  people 
of  giants.  And  you  must  be  such,  or  nothing.  Let  not  a 
man  of  that  twenty-four  millions  remain  excluded  from  the 
fraternal  bond  which  shall  join  you  together ;  let  not  a  look 
be  raised  to  that  Heaven  which  is  not  that  of  a  free  man. 
Love  humanity.  You  can  only  ascertain  your  own  mission 
from  the  aim  placed  by  God  before  humanity  at  large. 
Beyond  the  Alps,  beyond  the  sea,  are  other  Peoples,  now 
fighting,  or  preparing  to  fight,  the  holy  fight  of  independ- 
ence, of  nationality,  of  liberty;  other  Peoples  striving  by 
different  routes  to  reach  the  same  goal.  Unite  with  them — 
they  will  unite  with  you. 

And  love,  young  men,  love  and  reverence  the  Ideal;  it 
is  the  country  of  the  spirit,  the  city  of  the  soul,  in  which 
all  are  brethren  who  believe  in  the  inviolability  of  thought, 
and  in  the  dignity  of  our  immortal  natures.  From  that 
high  sphere  spring  the  principles  which  alone  can  redeem 
the  Peoples.  Love  enthusiasm — the  pure  dreams  of  the 
virgin  soul,  and  the  lofty  visions  of  early  youth;  for  they 
are  the  perfume  of  Paradise,  which  the  soul  preserves  in 
issuing  from  the  hands  of  its  Creator.  Respect,  above  all 
things,  your  conscience ;  have  upon  your  lips  the  truth  that 


SELECTIONS  FOR  PRACTISE  243 

God  has  placed  in  your  hearts ;  and,  while  working  together 
in  harmony  in  all  that  tends  to  the  emancipation  of  our 
soil,  even  with  those  who  differ  from  you,  yet  ever  bear  erect 
your  own  banner,  and  boldly  promulgate  your  f aith* 

Such  words,  young  men,  would  the  martyrs  of  Cosenza 
have  spoken,  had  they  been  living  among  you.  And  here, 
where,  perhaps,  invoked  by  our  love,  their  holy  spirits  hover 
near  us,  I  call  upon  you  to  gather  them  up  in  your  hearts, 
and  to  make  of  them  a  treasure  amid  the  storms  that  yet 
threaten  you,  but  which,  with  the  name  of  our  martyrs  on 
your  lips,  and  their  faith  in  your  hearts,  you  will  overcome. 

God  be  with  you,  and  bless  Italy ! 


SOUTH  CAROLINA  AND  MASSACHUSETTS 

BY   DANIEL   WEBSTER 

The  eulogium  pronounced  on  the  character  of  the  State 
of  South  Carolina,  by  the  honorable  gentleman,  for  her 
Revolutionary  and  other  merits,  meets  my  hearty  concur- 
rence. I  shall  not  acknowledge  that  the  honorable  member 
goes  before  me,  in  regard  for  whatever  of  distinguished 
talent  or  distinguished  character  South  Carolina  has  pro- 
duced. I  claim  part  of  the  honor;  I  partake  in  the  pride 
of  her  great  name.  I  claim  them  for  countrymen,  one  and 
all.  The  Laurenses,  the  Rutledges,  the  Pinckneys,  the 
Sumters,  the  Marions, — Americans,  all, — whose  fame  is  no 
more  to  be  hemmed  in  by  State  lines,  than  their  talents  and 
patriotism  were  capable  of  being  circumscribed  within  the 
same  narrow  limits. 

In  their  day  and  generation,  they  served  and  honored  the 
country,  and  the  whole  country ;  and  their  renown  is  of  the 


244  HOW  TO  SPEAK  IN  PUBLIC 

treasures  of  the  whole  country.  Him  whose  honored  name 
the  gentleman  himself  bears, — does  he  suppose  me  less 
capable  of  gratitude  for  his  patriotism,  or  sympathy  for  his 
sufferings,  than  if  his  eyes  had  first  opened  upon  the  light 
in  Massachusetts,  instead  of  South  Carolina?  Sir,  does  he 
suppose  it  is  in  his  power  to  exhibit  a  Carolina  name  so 
bright  as  to  produce  envy  in  my  bosom  ?  No,  sir ;  increased 
gratification  and  delight,  rather.  Sir,  I  thank  God  that, 
if  I  am  gifted  with  little  of  the  spirit  which  is  said  to  be 
able  to  raise  mortals  to  the  skies,  I  have  yet  none,  as  I  trust, 
of  that  other  spirit  which  would  drag  angels  down. 

When  I  shall  be  found,  sir,  in  my  place  here  in  the  Sen- 
ate, or  elsewhere,  to  sneer  at  public  merit,  because  it  hap- 
pened to  spring  up  beyond  the  little  limits  of  my  own  State 
or  neighborhood ;  when  I  refuse,  for  any  such  cause,  or  for 
any  cause,  the  homage  due  to  American  talent,  to  elevated 
patriotism,  to  sincere  devotion  to  liberty  and  the  country; 
or,  if  I  see  an  uncommon  endowment  of  Heaven;  if  I  see 
extraordinary  capacity  and  virtue  in  any  son  of  the  South ; 
and  if,  moved  by  local  prejudice,  or  gangrened  by  State 
jealousy,  I  get  up  here  to  abate  the  tithe  of  a  hair  from  his 
just  character  and  just  fame, — may  my  tongue  cleave  to 
the  roof  of  my  mouth ! 

Sir,  let  me  recur  to  pleasing  recollections ;  let  me  indulge 
in  refreshing  remembrances  of  the  past :  let  me  remind  you 
that,  in  early  times,  no  States  cherished  greater  harmony, 
both  of  principle  and  feeling,  than  Massachusetts  and  South 
Carolina.  Would  to  God  that  harmony  might  again  return ! 
Shoulder  to  shoulder,  they  went  through  the  Revolution: 
hand  in  hand,  they  stood  round  the  administration  of  Wash- 
ington, and  felt  his  own  great  arm  lean  on  them  for  sup- 
port. Unkind  feeling,  if  it  exist,  alienation  and  distrust, 


SELECTIONS  FOR  PRACTISE  245 

are  the  growth — unnatural  to  such  soils — of  false  principles 
since  sown.  They  are  weeds,  the  seeds  of  which  that  same 
great  arm  never  scattered. 

Mr.  President,  I  shall  enter  on  no  encomium  upon  Mas- 
sachusetts :  she  needs  none.  There  she  is, — behold  her,  and 
judge  for  yourselves.  There  is  her  history, — the  world 
knows  it  by  heart.  The  past,  at  least,  is  secure.  There  is 
Boston,  and  Concord,  and  Lexington,  and  Bunker  Hill, — 
and  there  they  will  remain  forever.  The  bones  of  her  sons, 
fallen  in  the  great  struggle  for  independence,  now  lie 
mingled  with  the  soil  of  every  State  from  New  England  to 
Georgia ;  and  there  they  will  lie  forever. 

And,  sir,  where  American  liberty  raised  its  first  voice, 
and  where  its  youth  was  nurtured  and  sustained,  there  it 
still  lives  in  the  strength  of  its  manhood,  and  full  of  its 
original  spirit.  If  discord  and  disunion  shall  wound  it;  if 
party  strife  and  blind  ambition  shall  hawk  at  and  tear  it; 
if  folly  arid  madness,  if  uneasiness  under  salutary  and  nec- 
essary restraints,  shall  succeed  to  separate  it  from  that 
Union  by  which  alone  its  existence  is  made  sure, — it  will 
stand,  in  the  end,  by  the  side  of  that  cradle  in  which  its 
infancy  was  rocked ;  it  will  stretch  forth  its  arm,  with  what- 
ever of  vigor  it  may  retain,  over  the  friends  who  gather 
round  it;  and  it  will  fall,  at  last,  if  fall  it  must,  amid  the 
proudest  monuments  of  its  own  glory,  on  the  very  spot  of 
its  origin! — (Reprinted  by  permission  of  Little,  Brown  & 
Co.,  Boston.) 


246  HOW  TO  SPEAK  IN  PUBLIC 

THE  DEATH   PENALTY 
BY   VICTOR   HUGO 

Gentlemen  of  the  Jury,  if  there  is  a  culprit  here,  it  is  not 
my  son, — it  is  myself, — it  is  I! — I,  who  for  these  twenty- 
five  years  have  opposed  capital  punishment, — have  con- 
tended for  the  inviolability  of  human  life, — have  committed 
this  crime  for  which  my  son  is  now  arraigned.  Here  I 
denounce  myself,  Mr.  Advocate  General !  I  have  committed 
it  under  all  aggravated  circumstances ;  deliberately,  repeat- 
edly, tenaciously.  Yes,  this  old  and  absurd  lex  talionis — 
this  law  of  blood  for  blood — I  have  combated  all  my  life — 
all  my  life,  Gentlemen  of  the  Jury!  And,  while  I  have 
breath,  I  will  continue  to  combat  it,  by  all  my  efforts  as  a 
writer,  by  all  my  words  and  all  my  votes  as  a  legislator !  I 
declare  it  before  the  crucifix;  before  that  victim  of  the 
penalty  of  death,  who  sees  and  hears  us ;  before  that  gibbet, 
to  which,  two  thousand  years  ago,  for  the  eternal  instruction 
of  the  generations,  the  human  law  nailed  the  Divine ! 

In  all  that  my  son  has  written  on  the  subject  of  capital 
punishment  and  for  writing  and  publishing  which  he  is  now 
on  trial, — in  all  that  he  has  written,  he  has  merely  pro- 
claimed the  sentiments  with  which,  from  his  infancy,  I  have 
inspired  him.  Gentlemen  Jurors,  the'  right  to  criticize  a 
law,  and  to  criticize  it  severely — especially  a  penal  law — is 
placed  beside  the  duty  of  amelioration,  like  the  torch  beside 
the  work  under  the  artisan's  hand.  The  right  of  the  jour- 
nalist is  as  sacred,  as  necessary,  as  imprescriptible,  as  the 
right  of  the  legislator. 

What  are  the  circumstances?  A  man,  a  convict,  a  sen- 
tenced wretch,  is  dragged,  on  a  certain  morning,  to  one  of 


SELECTIONS  FOR  PRACTISE  247 

our  public  squares.  There  he  finds  the  scaffold!  He 
shudders,  he  struggles,  he  refuses  to  die.  He  is  young  yet 
— only  twenty-nine.  Ah !  I  know  what  you  will  say, — * '  He 
is  a  murderer!"  But  hear  me.  Two  officers  seize  him. 
His  hands,  his  feet,  are  tied.  He  throws  off  the  two  officers. 
A  frightful  struggle  ensues.  His  feet,  bound  as  they  are, 
become  entangled  in  the  ladder.  He  uses  the  scaffold  against 
the  scaffold!  The  struggle  is  prolonged.  Horror  seizes  on 
the  crowd.  The  officers, — sweat  and  shame  on  their  brows, 
—pale,  panting,  terrified,  despairing, — despairing  with  I 
know  not  what  horrible  despair, — shrinking  under  that 
public  reprobation  which  ought  to  have  visited  the  penalty, 
and  spared  the  passive  instrument,  the  executioner, — the 
officers  strive  savagely.  The  victim  clings  to  the  scaffold, 
and  shrieks  for  pardon.  His  clothes  are  torn, — his  shoul- 
ders bloody, — still  he  resists.  At  length,  after  three-quarters 
of  an  hour  of  this  monstrous  effort,  of  this  spectacle  without 
a  name,  of  this  agony, — agony  for  all,  be  it  understood, — 
agony  for  the  assembled  spectators  as  well  as  for  the  con- 
demned man, — after  this  age  of  anguish,  Gentlemen  of  the 
Jury,  they  take  back  the  poor  wretch  to  his  prison. 

The  People  breathe  again.  The  People,  naturally  merci- 
ful, hope  that  the  man  will  be  spared.  But  no, — the  guillo- 
tine, tho  vanquished,  remains  standing.  There  it  frowns 
all  day,  in  the  midst  of  a  sickened  population.  And  at 
night,  the  officers,  reinforced,  drag  forth  the  wretch  again, 
so  bound  that  he  is  but  an  inert  weight, — they  drag  him 
forth,  haggard,  bloody,  weeping,  pleading,  howling  for  life, 
— calling  upon  God,  calling  upon  his  father  and  mother, — 
for  like  a  very  child  had  this  man  become  in  the  prospect  of 
death, — they  drag  him  forth  to  execution.  He  is  hoisted 
on  the  scaffold,  and  his  head  falls! — And  then  through 


248  HOW  TO  SPEAK  IN  PUBLIC 

every  conscience  runs  a  shudder.  Never  had  legal  murder 
appeared  with  an  aspect  so  indecent,  so  abominable.  All 
feel  jointly  implicated  in  the  deed.  It  is  at  this  very  mo- 
ment that  from  a  young  man's  breast  escapes  a  cry,  wrung 
from  his  very  heart, — a  cry  of  pity  and  of  anguish, — a  cry 
of  horror, — a  cry  of  humanity.  And  this  cry  you  would 
punish!  And  in  the  face  of  the  appalling  facts  which  I 
have  narrated,  you  would  say  to  the  guillotine,  "Thou  art 
right!"  and  to  Pity,  saintly  Pity,  "Thou  art  wrong!" 
Gentlemen  of  the  Jury,  it  cannot  be!  Gentlemen,  I  have 
finished. 


OUR  RELATIONS  TO  ENGLAND 
BY  EDWARD  EVERETT 

Who  does  not  feel,  what  reflecting  American  does  not 
acknowledge,  the  incalculable  advantages  derived  by  this 
land  out  of  the  deep  fountains  of  civil,  intellectual,  and 
moral  truth,  from  which  we  have  drawn  in  England  ?  What 
American  does  not  feel  proud  that  his  fathers  were  the 
countrymen  of  Bacon,  of  Newton,  and  of  Locke  ?  Who  does 
not  know  that,  while  every  pulse  of  civil  liberty  in  the  heart 
of  the  British  Empire  beats  warm  and  full  in  the  bosom  of 
our  ancestors,  the  sobriety,  the  firmness,  and  the  dignity, 
with  which  the  cause  of  free  principles  struggled  into  ex- 
istence here,  constantly  found  encouragement  and  counte- 
nance from  the  friends  of  liberty  there?  Who  does  not 
remember  that,  when  the  Pilgrims  went  over  the  sea,  the 
prayers  of  the  faithful  British  confessors,  in  all  the  quarters 
of  their  dispersion,  went  over  with  them,  while  their  aching 
eyes  were  strained  till  the  star  of  hope  should  go  up  in  the 


SELECTIONS  FOR  PRACTISE  249 

western  skies  ?  And  who  will  ever  forget  that,  in  that  event- 
ful struggle  which  severed  these  youthful  republics  from 
the  British  crown,  there  was  not  heard  throughout  our  con- 
tinent in  arms,  a  voice  which  spoke  louder  for  the  rights  of 
America  than  that  of  Burke,  or  of  Chatham,  within  the 
walls  of  the  British  Parliament,  and  at  the  foot  of  the 
British  throne? 

I  am  not — I  need  not  say  I  am  not — the  panegyrist  of 
England.  I  am  not  dazzled  by  her  riches,  nor  awed  by  her 
power.  The  scepter,  the  miter,  and  the  coronet, — stars, 
garters,  and  blue  ribbons, — seem  to  me  poor  things  for 
great  men  to  contend  for.  Nor  is  my  admiration  awakened 
by  her  armies,  mustered  for  the  battles  of  Europe;  her 
navies,  overshadowing  the  ocean;  nor  her  empire,  grasping 
the  farthest  East.  It  is  these,  and  the  price  of  guilt  and 
blood  by  which  they  are  too  often  maintained,  which  are 
the  cause  why  no  friend  of  liberty  can  salute  her  with  un- 
divided affections.  But  it  is  the  cradle  and  the  refuge  of 
free  principles,  tho  often  persecuted;  the  school  of  relig- 
ious liberty,  the  more  precious  for  the  struggles  through 
which  it  has  passed ;  the  tombs  of  those  who  have  reflected 
honor  on  all  who  speak  the  English  tongue ;  it  is  the  birth- 
place of  our  fathers,  the  home  of  the  Pilgrims;  it  is  these 
which  I  love  and  venerate  in  England.  I  should  feel 
ashamed  of  an  enthusiasm  for  Italy  and  Greece,  did  I  not 
also  feel  it  for  a  land  like  this.  In  an  American,  it  would 
seem  to  me  degenerate  and  ungrateful  to  hang  with  passion 
upon  the  traces  of  Homer  and  Virgil,  and  follow,  without 
emotion,  the  nearer  and  plainer  footsteps  of  Shakespeare 
and  Milton.  I  should  think  him  cold  in  his  love  for  his 
native  land  who  felt  no  melting  in  his  heart  for  that  other 
native  country  which  holds  the  ashes  of  his  forefathers. 


250  HOW  TO  SPEAK  IN  PUBLIC 

REPLY  TO  HAYNE 
BY   DANIEL   WEBSTER 

The  honorable  member  complained  that  I  had  slept  on 
his  speech.  I  must  have  slept  on  it,  or  not  slept  at  all.  The 
moment  the  honorable  member  sat  down,  his  friend  from 
Missouri  rose,  and,  with  much  honeyed  commendation  of  the 
speech,  suggested  that  the  impressions  which  it  had  produced 
were  too  charming  and  delightful  to  be  disturbed  by  other 
sentiments  or  other  sounds,  and  proposed  that  the  Senate 
should  adjourn.  Would  it  have  been  quite  amiable  in  me, 
sir,  to  interrupt  this  excellent  good  feeling?  Must  I  not 
have  been  absolutely  malicious,  if  I  could  have  thrust  my- 
self forward  to  destroy  sensations  thus  pleasing?  Was  it 
not  much  better  and  kinder,  both  to  sleep  upon  them  my- 
self, and  to  allow,  others,  also,  the  pleasure  of  sleeping  upon 
them?  But  if  it  be  meant,  by  sleeping  upon  his  speech, 
that  I  took  time  to  prepare  a  reply  to  it,  it  is  quite  a  mis- 
take ;  owing  to  other  engagements,  I  could  not  employ  even 
the  interval  between  the  adjournment  of  the  Senate  and  its 
meeting  the  next  morning,  in  attention  to  the  subject  of 
this  debate.  Nevertheless,  sir,  the  mere  matter  of  fact  is 
undoubtedly  true — I  did  sleep  on  the  gentleman's  speech, 
and  slept  soundly.  And  I  slept  equally  well  on  his  speech 
of  yesterday,  to  which  I  am  now  replying.  It  is  quite  pos- 
sible that,  in  this  respect,  also,  I  possess  some  advantage 
over  the  honorable  member,  attributable,  doubtless,  to  a 
cooler  temperament  on  my  part ;  for,  in  truth,  I  slept  upon 
his  speeches  remarkably  well.  But  the  gentleman  inquires 
why  he  was  made  the  object  of  .such  a  reply.  Why  was  he 
singled  out?  If  an  attack  had  been  made  on  the  East,  he, 


SELECTIONS  FOR  PRACTISE  251 

he  assures  us,  did  not  begin  it — it  was  the  gentleman  from 
Missouri.  Sir,  I  answer  the  gentleman's  speech,  because  I 
happened  to  hear  it;  and  because,  also,  I  choose  to  give  an 
answer  to  that  speech,  which,  if  unanswered,  I  thought  most 
likely  to  produce  injurious  impressions.  I  did  not  stop  to 
inquire  who  was  the  original  drawer  of  the  bill.  I  found 
a  responsible  endorser  before  me,  and  it  was  my  purpose  to 
hold  him  liable,  and  to  bring  him  to  his  just  responsibility 
without  delay.  But,  sir,  this  interrogatory  of  the  honorable 
member  was  only  introductory  to  another.  He  proceeded 
to  ask  me  whether  I  had  turned  upon  him  in  this  debate 
from  the  consciousness  that  I  should  find  an  overmatch  if 
I  ventured  on  a  contest  with  his  friend  from  Missouri.  If, 
sir,  the  honorable  member,  ex  gratia  modestice,  had  chosen 
thus  to  defer  to  his  friend,  and  to  pay  him  a  compliment, 
without  intentional  disparagement  to  others,  it  would  have 
been  quite  according  to  the  friendly  courtesies  of  debate, 
and  not  at  all  ungrateful  to  my  own  feelings.  I  am  not 
one  of  those,  sir,  who  esteem  any  tribute  of  regard,  whether 
light  and  occasional,  or  more  serious  and  deliberate,  which 
may  be  bestowed  on  others,  as  so  much  unjustly  withholden 
from  themselves.  But  the  tone  and  manner  of  the  gentle- 
man's question  forbid  me  thus  to  interpret  it.  I  am  not 
at  liberty  to  consider  it  as  nothing  more  than  a  civility  to 
his  friend.  It  had  an  air  of  taunt  and  disparagement,  a 
little  of  the  loftiness  of  asserted  superiority,  which  does  not 
allow  me  to  pass  it  over  without  notice.  It  was  put  as  a 
question  for  me  to  answer,  and  so  put  as  if  it  were  difficult 
for  me  to  answer,  whether  I  deemed  the  member  from  Mis- 
souri an  overmatch  for  myself  in  debate  here.  It  seems  to 
me,  sir,  that  is  extraordinary  language,  and  an  extraordi- 
nary tone  for  the  discussions  of  this  body. 


252  HOW  TO  SPEAK  IN  PUBLIC 

Matches  and  overmatches!  Those  terms  are  more  ap- 
plicable elsewhere  than  here,  and  fitter  for  other  assemblies 
than  this.  Sir,  the  gentleman  seems  to  forget  where  and 
what  we  are.  This  is  a  Senate ;  a  Senate  of  equals ;  of  men 
of  individual  honor  and  personal  character,  and  of  absolute 
independence.  "We  know  no  masters;  we  acknowledge  no 
dictators.  This  is  a  hall  for  mutual  consultation  and  dis- 
cussion, not  an  arena  for  the  exhibition  of  champions.  I 
offer  myself,  sir,  as  a  match  for  no  man ;  I  throw  the  chal- 
lenge of  debate  at  no  man's  feet.  But  then,  sir,  since  the 
honorable  member  has  put  the  question  in  a  manner  that 
calls  for  an  answer,  I  will  give  him  an  answer;  and  I  tell 
him  that,  holding  myself  to  be  the  humblest  of  the  members 
here,  I  yet  know  nothing  in  the  arm  of  his  friend  from  Mis- 
souri, either  alone  or  when  aided  by  the  arm  of  his  friend 
from  South  Carolina,  that  need  deter  even  me  from  espous- 
ing what  opinions  I  may  choose  to  espouse,  from  debating 
whenever  I  may  choose  to  debate,  or  from  speaking  what- 
ever I  may  see  fit  to  say  on  the  floor  of  the  Senate.  Sir, 
when  uttered  as  matter  of  commendation  or  compliment, 
I  should  dissent  from  nothing  which  the  honorable  member 
might  say  of  his  friend.  Still  less  do  I  put  forth  any  pre- 
tensions of  my  own.  But  when  put  to  me  as  matter  of 
taunt,  I  throw  it  back,  arid  say  to  the  gentleman  that  he 
could  possibly  say  nothing  less  likely  than  such  a  com- 
parison to  wound  my  pride  of  personal  character.  The 
anger  of  its  tone  rescued  the  remark  from  intentional  irony, 
which  otherwise,  probably,. would  have  been  its  general  ac- 
ceptation. But,  sir,  if  it  be  imagined  that  by  this  mutual 
quotation  and  commendation;  if  it  be  supposed  that,  by 
casting  the  characters  of  the  drama,  assigning  to  each  his 
part — to  one  the  attack,  to  another  the  cry  of  onset — or  if 


SELECTIONS  FOR  PRACTISE  253 

it  be  thought  that  by  a  loud  and  empty  vaunt  of  anticipated 
victory  any  laurels  are  to  be  won  here;  if  it  be  imagined, 
especially,  that  any  or  all  these  things  will  shake  any  pur- 
pose of  mine,  I  can  tell  the  honorable  member,  once  for  all, 
that  he  is  greatly  mistaken,  and  that  he  is  dealing  with  one 
of  whose  temper  and  character  he  has  much  to  learn.  Sir, 
I  shall  not  allow  myself  on  this  occasion — I  hope  on  no 
occasion — to  be  betrayed  into  any  loss  of  temper;  but  if 
provoked,  as  I  trust  I  never  shall  allow  myself  to  be,  into 
crimination  and  recrimination,  the  honorable  member  may, 
perhaps,  find  that  in  that  contest  there  will  be  blows  to  take 
as  well  as  blows  to  give ;  that  others  can  state  comparisons 
as  significant,  at  least,  as  his  own;  and  that  his  impunity 
may,  perhaps,  demand  of  him  whatever  powers  of  taunt 
and  sarcasm  he  may  possess.  I  commend  him  to  a  prudent 
husbandry  of  his  resources. — (Reprinted  by  permission  of 
Little,  Brown  &  Co.,  Boston.) 


SPEECH    OF    SERJEANT    BUZFUZ    IN    THE    CASE    OF 
BARDELL  AGAINST  PICKWICK 

BY   CHARLES  DICKENS 

You  heard  from  my  learned  friend,  Gentlemen  of  the 
Jury,  that  this  is  an  action  for  a  breach  of  promise  of  mar- 
riage, in  which  the  damages  are  laid  at  fifteen  hundred 
pounds.  The  plaintiff,  Gentlemen,  is  a  widow ;  yes,  Gentle- 
men, a  widow.  The  late  Mr.  Bardell,  some  time  before  his 
death,  became  the  father,  Gentlemen,  of  a  little  boy.  With 
this  little  boy,  the  only  pledge  of  her  departed  exciseman, 
Mrs.  Bardell  shrunk  from  the  world,  and  courted  the  retire- 
ment and  tranquillity  of  Goswell  Street;  and  here  she 


254  HOW  TO  SPEAK  IN  PUBLIC 

placed  in  her  front  parlor-window  a  written  placard,  bear- 
ing this  inscription: — "Apartments  furnished  for  a  single 
gentleman.  Inquire  within."  Mrs.  Bardell's  opinions  of 
the  opposite  sex,  Gentlemen,  were  derived  from  a  long  con- 
templation of  the  inestimable  qualities  of  her  lost  husband. 
She  had  no  fear, — she  had  no  distrust, — all  was  confidence 
and  reliance.  "Mr.  Bardell,"  said  the  widow,  "was  a  man 
of  honor, — Mr.  Bardell  was  a  man  of  his  word, — Mr.  Bardell 
was  no  deceiver, — Mr.  Bardell  was  once  a  single  gentleman 
himself;  to  single  gentlemen  I  look  for  protection,  for  as- 
sistance, for  comfort,  and  for  consolation ; — in  a  single  gen- 
tleman I  shall  perpetually  see  something  to  remind  me  of 
what  Mr.  Bardell  was,  when  he  first  won  my  young  and  un- 
tried affections ;  to  a  single  gentleman,  then,  shall  my  lodg- 
ings be  let. ' '  Actuated  by  this  beautiful  and  touching  im- 
pulse (among  the  best  impulses  of  our  imperfect  nature, 
Gentlemen),  the  lonely  and  desolate  widow  dried  her  tears, 
furnished  her  first  floor,  caught  her  innocent  boy  to  her 
maternal  bosom,  and  put  the  bill  up  in  her  parlor-window. 
Did  it  remain  there  long?  No!  The  serpent  was  on  the 
watch,  the  train  was  laid,  the  mine  was  preparing,  the  sap- 
per and  the  miner  were  at  work !  Before  the  bill  had  been 
in  the  parlor-window  three  days, — three  days,  Gentlemen, — 
a  being,  erect  upon  two  legs,  and  bearing  all  the  outward 
semblance  of  a  man,  and  not  of  a  monster,  knocked  at  the 
door  of  Mrs.  Bardell 's  house !  He  inquired  within ;  he  took 
the  lodgings  and  on  the  very  next  day  he  entered  into  pos- 
session of  them.  This  man  was  Pickwick, — Pickwick,  the 
defendant ! 

Of  this  man  I  will  say  little.  The  subject  presents  but 
few  attractions ;  and  I,  Gentlemen,  am  not  the  man,  nor  are 
you,  Gentlemen,  the  men,  to  delight  in  the  contemplation  of 


SELECTIONS  FOR  PRACTISE  255 

revolting  heartlessness,  and  of  systematic  villainy.  I  say 
systematic  villainy,  Gentlemen;  and  when  I  say  systematic 
villainy,  let  me  tell  the  defendant,  Pickwick,  if  he  be  in 
Court,  as  I  am  informed  he  is,  that  it  would  have  been  more 
decent  in  him,  more  becoming,  if  he  had  stopped  away. 
Let  me  tell  him,  further,  that  a  counsel,  in  his  discharge  of 
his  duty,  is  neither  to  be  intimidated  nor  bullied,  nor  put 
down;  and  that  any  attempt  to  do  either  the  one  or  the 
other  will  recoil  on  the  head  of  the  attempter,  be  he  plaintiff 
or  be  he  defendant,  be  his  name  Pickwick,  or  Noakes,  or 
Stoakes,  or  Stiles,  or  Brown,  or  Thompson. 

I  shall  show  you,  Gentlemen,  that  for  two  years  Pickwick 
continued  to  reside  constantly,  and  without  interruption  or 
intermission,  at  Mrs.  Bardell  's  house.  I  shall  show  you  that 
Mrs.  Bardell,  during  the  whole  of  that  time,  waited  on  him, 
attended  to  his  comforts,  cooked  his  meals,  looked  out  his 
linen  for  the  washerwoman  when  it  went  abroad,  darned, 
aired,  and  prepared  it  for  wear  when  it  came  home,  and, 
in  short,  enjoyed  his  fullest  trust  and  confidence.  I  shall 
show  you  that  on  many  occasions  he  gave  half -pence,  and 
on  some  occasions,  even  sixpence  to  her  little  boy.  I  shall 
prove  to  you,  that  on  one  occasion,  when  he  returned  from 
the  country,  he  distinctly  and  in  terms  offered  her  mar- 
riage: previously,  however,  taking  special  care  that  there 
should  be  no  witnesses  to  their  solemn  contract;  and  that 
I  am  in  a  situation  to  prove  to  you,  on  the  testimony  of 
three  of  his  own  friends, — most  unwilling  witnesses,  Gentle- 
men,— most  unwilling  witnesses, — that  on  that  morning  he 
was  discovered  by  them  holding  the  plaintiff  in  his  arms, 
and  soothing  her  agitation  by  his  caresses  and  endearments. 

And  now,  Gentlemen,  but  one  word  more.  Two  letters 
have  passed  between  these  parties, — letters  that  must  be 


256  HOW  TO  SPEAK  IN  PUBLIC. 

viewed  with  a  cautious  and  suspicious  eye, — letters  that 
were  evidently  intended,  at  the  time,  by  Pickwick,  to  mis- 
lead and  delude  any  third  parties  into  whose  hands  they 
might  fall.  Let  me  read  the  first: — "Garraway's,  twelve 
o'clock. — Dear  Mrs.  B. — Chops  and  Tomato  sauce.  Yours, 
Pickwick."  Gentlemen,  what  does  this  mean?  Chops  and 
Tomato  sauce!  Yours,  Pickwick!  Chops!  Gracious 
Heavens!  And  Tomato  sauce!  Gentlemen,  is  the  happi- 
ness of  a  sensitive  and  confiding  female  to  be  trifled  away 
by  such  shallow  artifices  as  these?  The  next  has  no  date 
whatever,  which  is  in  itself  suspicious: — "Dear  Mrs.  B.,  I 
shall  not  be  at  home  to-morrow.  Slow  coach. ' '  And  then 
follows  this  very  remarkable  expression, — "Don't  trouble 
yourself  about  the  warming-pan."  The  warming-pan! 
Why,  Gentlemen,  who  does  trouble  himself  about  a  warm- 
ing-pan? Why  is  Mrs.  Bardell  so  earnestly  entreated  not 
to  agitate  herself  about  this  warming-pan,  unless  (as  is  no 
doubt  the  case)  it  is  a  mere  cover  for  hidden  fire — a  mere 
substitute  for  some  endearing  word  or  promise,  agreeably 
to  a  preconcerted  system  of  correspondence,  artfully  con- 
trived by  Pickwick  with  a  view  to  his  contemplated  deser- 
tion ?  And  what  does  this  allusion  to  the  slow  coach  mean  ? 
For  aught  I  know,  it  may  be  a  reference  to  Pickwick  him- 
self, who  has  most  unquestionably  been  a  criminally  slow 
coach  during  the  whole  of  this  transaction,  but  whose  speed 
will  now  be  very  unexpectedly  accelerated,  and  whose 
wheels,  Gentlemen,  as  he  will  find  to  his  cost,  will  very  soon 
be  greased  by  you! 

But  enough  of  this,  Gentlemen.  It  is  difficult  to  smile 
with  an  aching  heart.  My  client's  hopes  and  prospects  are 
ruined,  and  it  is  no  figure  of  speech  to  say  that  her  occupa- 
tion is  gone  indeed.  The  bill  is  down — but  there  is  no 


SELECTIONS  FOR  PRACTISE  257 

tenant!  Eligible  single  gentlemen  pass  and  repass — but 
there  is  no  invitation  for  them  to  inquire  within,  or  with- 
out! All  is  gloom  and  silence  in  the  house;  even  the  voice 
of  the  child  is  hushed;  his  infant  sports  are  disregarded, 
when  his  mother  weeps.  But  Pickwick,  Gentlemen,  the  ruth- 
less destroyer  of  this  domestic  oasis  in  the  desert  of  Goswell 
Street, — Pickwick,  who  comes  before  you  to-day  with  his 
heartless  tomato-sauce  and  warming-pans, — Pickwick  still 
rears  his  head  with  unblushing  effrontery,  and  gazes  with- 
out a  sigh  on  the  ruin  he  has  made !  Damages,  Gentlemen, 
heavy  damages,  is  the  only  punishment  with  which  you  can 
visit  him, — the  only  recompense  you  can  award  to  my  client ! 
And  for  those  damages  she  now  appeals  to  an  enlightened, 
a  high-minded,  a  right-feeling,  a  conscientious,  a  dispas- 
sionate, a  sympathizing,  a  contemplative  Jury  of  her  civil- 
ized countrymen ! 


CATILINE'S   DEFIANCE 

BY  REV.  GEORGE  CROLY 

CONSCRIPT  FATHERS  4 

I  do  not  rise  to  waste  the  night  in  words; 
Let  that  Plebeian  talk ;  't  is  not  my  trade ; 
But  here  I  stand  for  right, — let  him  show  proof s,- 
For  Roman  right ;  tho  none,  it  seems,  dare  stand 
To  take  their  share  with  me.    Ay,  cluster  there! 
Cling  to  your  master,  judges,  Romans,  slaves! 
His  charge  is  false ; — I  dare  him  to  his  proofs. 
You  have  my  answer.    Let  my  actions  speak! 

But  this  I  will  avow,  that  I  have  scorned, 
And  still  do  scorn,  to  hide  my  sense  of  wrong ! 


258  HOW  TO  SPEAK  IN  PUBLIC 

Who  brands  me  on  the  forehead,  breaks  my  sword, 
Or  lays  the  bloody  scourge  upon  my  back, 
Wrongs  me  not  half  so  much  as  he  who  shuts 
The  gates  of  honor  on  me, — turning  out 
The  Roman  from  his  birthright;  and,  for  what? 

[Looking  round  him. 
To  fling  your  offices  to  every  slave ! 
Vipers,  that  creep  where  man  disdains  to  climb, 
And,  having  wound  their  loathsome  track  to  the  top, 
Of  this  huge,  moldering  monument  of  Rome, 
Hang  hissing  at  the  nobler  man  below ! 

Come,  consecrated  Lictors,  from  your  thrones; 

[To  the  Senate. 

Fling  down  your  scepters;  take  the  rod  and  ax, 
And  make  the  murder  as  you  make  the  law ! 

Banished  from  Rome!    What's  banished,  but  set  free 
From  daily  contact  of  the  things  I  loathe  ? 
"Tried  and  convicted  traitor!"    Who  says  this? 
Who'll  prove  it,  at  his  peril,  on  my  head? 
Banished !    I  thank  you  for  't    It  breaks  my  chain ! 
I  held  some  slack  allegiance  till  this  hour; 
But  now  my  sword's  my  own.     Smile  on,  my  lords! 
I  scorn  to  count  what  feelings,  withered  hopes, 
Strong  provocations,  bitter,  burning  wrongs, 
I  have  within  my  heart's  hot  cells  shut  up, 
To  leave  you  in  your  lazy  dignities. 
But  here  I  stand  and  scoff  you !  here,  I  fling 
Hatred  and  full  defiance  in  your  face! 
Your  Consul's  merciful. — For  this,  all  thanks. 
He  dares  not  touch  a  hair  of  Catiline ! 


SELECTIONS  FOR  PRACTISE  259 

11  Traitor!"  I  go;  but,  I  return.    This— trial! 
Here  I  devote  your  Senate!     I've  had  wrongs 
To  stir  a  fever  in  the  blood  of  age, 
Or  make  the  infant's  sinews  strong  as  steel. 
This  day 's  the  birth  of  sorrow !    This  hour 's  work 
Will  breed  proscriptions !    Look  to  your  hearths,  my  lords ! 
For  there,  henceforth,  shall  sit,  for  household  gods, 
Shapes  hot  from  Tartarus ! — all  shames  and  crimes 
Wan  Treachery,  with  his  thirsty  dagger  drawn ; 
Suspicion,  poisoning  his  brother 's  cup ; 
Naked  Rebellion,  with  the  torch  and  axe, 
Making  his  wild  sport  of  your  blazing  Thrones; 
Till  Anarchy  comes  down  on  you  like  the  Night, 
And  Massacre  seals  Rome's  eternal  grave. 

I  go ;  but  not  to  leap  the  gulf  alone. 
I  go ;  but,  when  I  come,  't  will  be  the  burst 
Of  ocean  in  the  earthquake, — rolling  back 
In  swift  and  mountainous  ruin.    Fare  you  well: 
You  build  my  funeral-pile;  but  your  best  blood 
Shall  quench  its  flame!    Back,  slaves!    [To  the  Lictors.]    I 
will  return. 

CATILINE  DENOUNCED 
BY   CICERO 

How  far,  0  Catiline,  wilt  thou  abuse  our  patience  ?  How 
long  shalt  thou  baffle  justice  in  thy  mad  career?  To  what 
extreme  wilt  thou  carry  thy  audacity?  Art  thou  nothing 
daunted  by  the  nightly  watch,  posted  to  secure  the  Pala- 
tium  ?  Nothing,  by  the  city  guards  ?  Nothing,  by  the  rally 
of  all  good  citizens?  Nothing,  by  the  assembling  of  the 
Senate  in  this  fortified  place?  Nothing,  by  the  averted 


260  HOW  TO  SPEAK  IN  PUBLIC 

looks  of  all  here  present  ?  Seest  thou  not  that  all  thy  plots 
are  exposed? — that  thy  wretched  conspiracy  is  laid  bare 
to  every  man's  knowledge,  here  in  the  Senate? — that  we 
are  well  aware  of  thy  proceedings  of  last  night ;  of  the 
night  before ; — the  place  of  meeting,  the  company  convoked, 
the  measures  concerted?  Alas,  the  times!  Alas,  the  pub- 
lic morals!  The  Senate  understands  all  this.  The  Consul 
sees  it.  Yet  the  traitor  lives !  Lives  ?  Ay,  truly,  and  con- 
fronts us  here  in  council, — takes  part  in  our  deliberations, — 
and,  with  his  measuring  eye,  marks  out  each  man  of  us  for 
slaughter !  And  we,  all  this  while,  strenuous  that  we  are, 
think  we  have  amply  discharged  our  duty  to  the  State,  if 
we  but  shun  this  madman  '&  sword  and  fury ! 

Long  since,  0  Catiline,  ought  the  Consul  to  have  ordered 
thee  to  execution,  and  brought  upon  thy  own  head  the  ruin 
thou  hast  been  meditating  against  others !  There  was  that 
virtue  once  in  Rome,  that  a  wicked  citizen  was  held  more 
execrable  than  the  deadliest  foe.  We  have  a  law  still,  Cat- 
iline, for  thee.  Think  not  that  we  are  powerless,  because 
forbearing.  We  have  a  decree, — tho  it  rests  among  our 
archives  like  a  sword  in  its  scabbard, — a  decree,  by  which 
thy  life  would  be  made  to  pay  the  forfeit  of  thy  crimes. 
And,  should  I  order  thee  to  be  instantly  seized  and  put  to 
death,  I  make  just  doubt  whether  all  good  men  would  not 
think  it  done  rather  too  late  than  any  man  too  cruelly. 
But  for  good  reasons,  I  will  defer  the  blow  long  since  de- 
served. Then  will  I  doom  thee,  when  no  man  is  found,  so 
lost,  so  wicked,  nay,  so  like  thyself,  but  shall  confess  that 
it  was  justly  dealt.  While  there  is  one  man  that  dares  de- 
fend thee,  live !  But  thou  shalt  live  so  beset,  so  surrounded, 
so  scrutinized,  by  the  vigilant  guards  that  I  have  placed 
around  thee,  that  thou  shalt  not  stir  a  foot  against  the  Re- 


SELECTIONS  FOR  PRACTISE  261 

public,  without  my  knowledge.  There  shall  be  eyes  to 
detect  thy  slightest  movement,  and  ears  to  catch  thy  wariest 
whisper,  of  which  thou  shalt  not  dream.  The  darkness  of 
night  shall  not  cover  thy  treason — the  walls  of  privacy  shall 
not  stifle  its  voice.  Baffled  on  all  sides,  thy  most  secret 
counsels  clear  as  noonday,  what  canst  thou  now  have  in 
view?  Proceed,  plot,  conspire,  as  thou  wilt;  there  is  noth- 
ing you  can  contrive,  nothing  you  can  propose,  nothing  you 
can  attempt,  which  I  shall  not  know,  hear  and  promptly  un- 
derstand. Thou  shalt  soon  be  made  aware  that  I  am  even 
more  active  in  providing  for  the  preservation  of  the  State 
than  thou  in  plotting  its  destruction ! 

THE  ELOQUENCE  OF  ADAMS 

BY  DANIEL  WEBSTER 

When  public  bodies  are  to  be  addressed  on  momentous 
occasions,  when  great  interests  are  at  stake,  and  strong 
passions  excited,  nothing  is  valuable  in  speech,  further  than 
as  it  is  connected  with  high  intellectual  and  moral  endow- 
ments. Clearness,  force,  and  earnestness  are  the  qualities 
which  produce  conviction. 

True  eloquence,  indeed,  does  not  consist  in  speech.  It 
can  not  be  brought  from  far.  Labor  and  learning  may  toil 
for  it,  but  they  will  toil  in  vain.  Words  and  phrases  may 
be  marshaled  in  every  way,  but  they  can  not  compass  it. 
It  must  exist  in  the  man,  in  the  subject,  and  in  the  occasion. 
Affected  passion,  intense  expression,  the  pomp  of  declama- 
tion, all  may  aspire  after  it ;  they  can  not  reach  it.  It  comes, 
if  it  come  at  all,  like  the  outbreaking  of  a  fountain  from 
the  earth,  or  the  bursting  forth  of  volcanic  fires,  with  spon- 
taneous, original,  native  force. 


262  HOW  TO  SPEAK  IN  PUBLIC 

The  graces  taught  in  the  schools,  the  costly  ornaments 
and  studied  contrivances  of  speech  shock  and  disgust  men, 
when  their  own  lives,  and  the  fate  of  their  wives,  their  chil- 
dren, and  their  country,  hang  on  the  decision  of  the  hour. 
Then  words  have  lost  their  power,  rhetoric  is  vain,  and  all 
elaborate  oratory  contemptible.  Even  genius  itself  then 
feels  rebuked  and  subdued,  as  in  the  presence  of  higher 
qualities.  Then  patriotism  is  eloquent;  then  self-devotion 
is  eloquent.  The  clear  conception,  outrunning  the  deduc- 
tions of  logic,  the  high  purpose,  the  firm  resolve,  the  daunt- 
less spirit,  speaking  on  the  tongue,  beaming  from  the  eye, 
informing  every  feature,  and  urging  the  whole  man  on- 
ward, right  onward  to  his  object, — this,  this  is  eloquence; 
or  rather  it  is  something  greater  and  higher  than  all  elo- 
quence ;  it  is  action,  noble,  sublime,  godlike  action. 

In  July,  1776,  the  controversy  had  passed  the  stage  of 
argument.  An  appeal  had  been  made  to  force,  and  oppo- 
sing armies  were  in  the  field.  Congress,  then,  was  to  de- 
cide whether  the  tie  which  had  so  long  bound  us  to  the 
parent  State  was  to  be  severed  at  once,  and  severed  forever. 
All  the  Colonies  had  signified  their  resolution  to  abide  by 
this  decision,  and  the  people  looked  for  it  with  the  most 
intense  anxiety.  And  surely,  fellow  citizens,  never,  never 
were  men  called  to  a  more  important  political  deliberation. 
If  we  contemplate  it  from  the  point  where  they  then  stood, 
no  question  could  be  more  full  of  interest :  if  we  look  at  it 
now,  and  judge  of  its  importance  by  its  effects,  it  appears 
in  still  greater  magnitude. 

Let  us,  then,  bring  before  us  the  assembly  which  was 
about  to  decide  a  question  thus  big  with  the  fate  of  em- 
pire. Let  us  open  their  doors,  and  look  in  upon  their  delib- 
erations. Let  us  survey  the  anxious  and  care-worn  counte- 


SELECTIONS  FOR  PRACTISE  263 

nances,  let  us  hear  the  firm-toned  voices,  of  this  band  of 
patriots. 

Hancock  presides  over  the  solemn  sitting;  and  one  of 
those  not  yet  prepared  to  pronounce  for  absolute  independ- 
ence is  on  the  floor,  and  is  urging  his  reasons  for  dissenting 
from  the  Declaration: 

' '  Let  us  pause !  This  step,  once  taken,  can  not  be  retraced. 
This  resolution,  once  passed,  will  cut  off  all  hope  of  recon- 
ciliation. If  success  attend  the  arms  of  England,  we  shall 
then  be  no  longer  colonies,  with  charters  and  with  privi- 
leges: these  will  all  be  forfeited  by  this  act;  and  we  shall 
be  in  the  condition  of  other  conquered  peoples,  at  the  mercy 
of  the  conquerors.  For  ourselves,  we  may  be  ready  to  run 
the  hazard;  but  are  we  ready  to  carry  the  country  to  that 
length?  Is  success  so  probable  as  to  justify  it?  Where  is 
the  military,  where  the  naval  power,  by  which  we  are  to 
resist  the  whole  strength  of  the  arm  of  England?  .  .  . 

'  *  While  we  stand  on  our  old  ground,  and  insist  on  redress 
of  grievances,  we  know  we  are  right,  and  are  not  answer- 
able for  consequences.  Nothing  then  can  be  imputed  to 
us.  But  if  we  now  change  our  object,  carry  our  preten- 
sions further,  and  set  up  for  absolute  independence,  we 
shall  lose  the  sympathy  of  mankind.  We  shall  no  longer 
be  defending  what  we  possess,  but  struggling  for  something 
which  we  never  did  possess,  and  which  we  have  solemnly 
and  uniformly  disclaimed  all  intention  of  pursuing,  from 
the  very  outset  of  the  troubles.  Abandoning  thus  our  old 
ground  of  resistance  only  to  arbitrary  acts  of  oppression, 
the  nations  will  believe  the  whole  to  have  been  mere  pre- 
tense, and  they  will  look  on  us,  not  as  injured,  but  as 
ambitious  subjects. 

"I  shudder  before  this  responsibility.    It  will  be  on  us, 


264  HOW  TO  SPEAK  IN  PUBLIC 

if,  relinquishing  the  ground  on  which  we  have  stood  so  long, 
and  stood  so  safely,  we  now  proclaim  independence,  and 
carry  on  the  war  for  that  object,  while  these  cities  burn, 
these  pleasant  fields  whiten  and  bleach  with  the  bones  of 
their  owners,  and  these  streams  run  blood.  It  will  be  upon 
us,  it  will  be  upon  us,  if,  failing  to  maintain  this  unseason- 
able and  ill-judged  Declaration,  a  sterner  despotism,  main- 
tained by  military  power,  shall  be  established  over  our 
posterity,  when  we  ourselves,  given  up  by  an  exhausted,  a 
harassed,  a  misled  people,  shall  have  expiated  our  rashness 
and  atoned  for  our  presumption  on  the  scaffold. ' ' 

It  was  for  Mr.  Adams  to  reply  to  arguments  like  these. 
We  know  his  opinions,  and  we  know  his  character.  He 
would  commence  with  his  accustomed  directness  and  ear- 
nestness : 

"Sink  or  swim,  live  or  die,  survive  or  perish,  I  give  my 
hand  and  my  heart  to  this  vote.  It  is  true  that  in  the  be- 
ginning we  aimed  not  at  independence.  But  there's  a  Di- 
vinity which  shapes  our  ends.  The  injustice  of  England 
has  driven  us  to  arms ;  and,  blinded  to  her  own  interest  for 
our  good,  she  has  obstinately  persisted,  till  independence 
is  now  within  our  grasp.  We  have  but  to  reach  forth  to 
it,  and  it  is  ours.  Why  then  should  we  defer  the  Declara- 
tion? Is  any  man  so  weak  as  now  to  hope  for  a  reconcil- 
iation with  England,  which  shall  leave  either  safety  to 
the  country  and  its  liberties,  or  safety  to  his  life  and  his 
own  honor?  Are  you  not,  sir,  who  sit  in  that  chair,  is 
not  he,  our  venerable  colleague  near  you,  are  you  not  both 
already  the  proscribed  and  predestined  objects  of  punish- 
ment and  of  vengeance?  Cut  off  from  all  hope  of  royal 
clemency,  what  are  you,  what  can  you  be,  while  the  power 
of  England  remains,  but  outlaws? 


SELECTIONS  FOR  PRACTISE  265 

"If  we  postpone  independence,  do  we  mean  to  carry  on, 
or  to  give  up,  the  war  ?  Do  we  mean  to  submit  to  the  meas- 
ures of  Parliament,  Boston  Port  Bill  and  all  ?  Do  we  mean 
to  submit,  and  consent  that  we  ourselves  shall  be  ground  to 
powder,  and  our  country  and  its  rights  trodden  down  in 
the  dust?  I  know  we  do  not  mean  to  submit.  We  never 
shall  submit  Do  we  mean  to  violate  that  most  solemn  ob- 
ligation ever  entered  into  by  men,  that  plighting,  before 
God,  of  our  sacred  honor  to  Washington,  when,  putting 
him  forth  to  incur  the  dangers  of  war,  as  well  as  the  polit- 
ical hazards  of  the  times,  we  promised  to  adhere  to  him, 
in  every  extremity,  with  our  fortunes  and  our  lives?  I 
know  there  is  not  a  man  here,  who  would  not  rather  see  a 
general  conflagration  sweep  over  the  land,  or  an  earthquake 
sink  it,  than  one  jot  or  tittle  of  that  plighted  faith  fall 
to  the  ground.  For  myself,  having,  twelve  months  ago,  in 
this  place,  moved  you,  that  George  Washington  be  appointed 
commander  of  the  forces  raised,  or  to  be  raised,  for  defense 
of  American  liberty,  may  my  right  hand  forget  her  cunning, 
and  my  tongue  cleave  to  the  roof  of  my  mouth,  if  I  hesitate 
or  waver  in  the  support  I  give  him. 

"Sir,  I  know  the  uncertainty  of  human  affairs,  but  I 
see,  I  see  clearly,  through  this  day's  business.  You  and 
I  indeed  may  rue  it.  We  may  not  live  to  the  time  when 
this  Declaration  shall  be  made  good.  We  may  die;  die, 
colonists ;  die,  slaves ;  die,  it  may  be,  ignominiously  and  on 
the  scaffold.  Be  it  so;  be  it  so!  If  it  be  the  pleasure  of 
Heaven  that  my  country  shall  require  the  poor  offering  of 
my  life,  the  victim  shall  be  ready  at  the  appointed  hour  of 
sacrifice,  come  when  that  hour  may.  But  while  I  do  live, 
let  me  have  a  country,  or  at  least  the  hope  of  a  country, 
and  that  a  free  country. 


266  HOW  TO  SPEAK  IN  PUBLIC 

1  'But,  whatever  may  be  our  fate,  be  assured,  be  assured, 
that  this  Declaration  will  stand.  It  may  cost  treasure,  and 
it  may  cost  blood ;  but  it  will  stand,  and  it  will  richly  com- 
pensate for  both.  Through  the  thick  gloom  of  the  present, 
I  see  the  brightness  of  the  future,  as  the  sun  in  heaven. 
We  shall  make  this  a  glorious,  an  immortal  day.  When 
we  are  in  our  graves,  our  children  will  honor  it.  They  will 
celebrate  it  with  thanksgiving,  with  festivity,  with  bonfires, 
and  illuminations.  On  its  annual  return  they  will  shed 
tears,  copious,  gushing  tears,  not  of  subjection  and  slavery, 
not  of  agony  and  distress,  but  of  exultation,  of  gratitude, 
and  of  joy.  Sir,  before  God,  I  believe  the  hour  is  come. 
My  judgment  approves  this  measure,  and  my  whole  heart 
is  in  it.  All  that  I  have,  and  all  that  I  am,  and  all  that  I 
hope,  in  this  life,  I  am  now  ready  here  to  stake  upon  it; 
and  I  leave  off,  as  I  began,  that  live  or  die,  survive  or  per- 
ish, I  am  for  the  Declaration.  It  is  my  living  sentiment, 
and  by  the  blessing  of  God  it  shall  be  my  dying  sentiment, 
Independence  now,  and  Independence  forever.  *  '—(Reprint- 
ed by  permission  of  Little,  Brown  &  Co.,  Boston.) 


THE  POWER  OF  HABIT 
BY  JOHN  B.  GOUGH 

I  remember  once  riding  from  Buffalo  to  the  Niagara 
Falls.  I  said  to  a  gentleman,  "What  river  is  that,  sir?" 
"That,"  he  said,  "is  the  Niagara  River."  "Well,  it  is  a 
beautiful  stream,"  said  I,  "bright,  and  fair,  and  glassy. 
How  far  off  are  the  rapids?"  "Only  a  mile  or  two,"  was 
the  reply.  "Is  it  possible  that  only  one  mile  from  us  we 


SELECTIONS  FOR  PRACTISE  267 

shall  find  the  water  in  the  turbulence  which  it  must  show 
near  to  the  Falls  ? "  "  You  will  find  it  so,  sir. ' ' 

And  so  I  found  it;  and  the  first  sight  of  Niagara  Falls 
I  shall  never  forget. 

Now  launch  your  bark  on  that  Niagara  River ;  it  is  bright, 
smooth,  beautiful,  and  glassy.  There  is  a  ripple  at  the  bow ; 
the  silver  wake  you  leave  behind  adds  to  your  enjoyment. 
Down  the  stream  you  glide,  oars,  sails,  and  helm  in  proper 
trim;  and  you  set  out  on  your  pleasure  excursion.  Sud- 
denly some  one  cries  out  from  the  bank,  "  Young  men, 
ahoy!" 

"What  is  it?" 

"The  rapids  are  below  you." 

' '  Ha,  ha !  We  have  heard  of  the  rapids ;  but  we  are  not 
such  fools  as  to  get  there.  If  we  go  too  fast,  then  we  shall 
up  with  the  helm,  and  steer  to  the  shore;  we  will  set  the 
mast  in  the  socket,  hoist  the  sail,  and  speed  to  the  land. 
Then  on,  boys;  don't  be  alarmed;  there  is  no  danger." 

"Young  men,  ahoy,  there!" 

"What  is  it?" 

"The  rapids  are  below  you!" 

"Ha  ha!  We  shall  laugh  and  quaff;  all  things  delight 
us.  What  care  we  for  the  future?  No  man  ever  saw  it. 
Sufficient  for  the  day  is  the  evil  thereof.  We  will  enjoy 
life  while  we  may;  will  catch  pleasure  as  it  flies.  This  is 
enjoyment;  time  enough  to  steer  out  of  danger  when  we 
are  sailing  swiftly  with  the  current." 

"Young  men,  ahoy!" 

"What  is  it?" 

"Beware!  Beware!  The  rapids  are  below  you!" 

Now  you  see  the  water  foaming  all  around.  See  how 
fast  you  pass  that  point!  Up  with  the  helm!  Now  turn. 


208  HOW  TO  SPEAK  IN  PUBLIC 

Pull  hard!  quick!  quick!  quick!  pull  for  your  lives;  pull 
till  the  blood  starts  from  your  nostrils,  and  the  veins  stand 
like  whipcords  upon  your  brow.  Set  the  mast  in  the  socket ! 
Hoist  the  sail!  Ah!  ah!  it  is  too  late!  Shrieking,  cursing, 
howling,  blaspheming,  over  they  go. 

Thousands  go  over  the  rapids  every  year,  through  the 
power  of  habit,  crying  all  the  while,  "When  I  find  out  that 
it  is  injuring  me,  I  will  give  it  up." 

We  see  sometimes,  on  our  city  streets,  placards  posted, 
"Lost!  Lost!  Lost!"  And  I  stop  sometimes  to  think  of  the 
cherished  treasure  that  is  gone,  the  heartache  at  its  loss, 
the  longing  for  its  return.  On  those  same  streets  we  hear 
sometimes,  in  the  calm  of  the  evening's  deepening  twilight, 
the  ringing  of  the  crier's  bell,  and  his  shrill  voice,  shouting, 
'  *  Child  lost !  Child  lost ! ' '  Yes !  a  child  lost,  away  from  the 
comfort  and  brightness  of  home,  gone  from  the  father's 
smile  and  the  mother's  fond  embrace,  strayed  out  into  the 
night,  alone,  amid  its  dreary,  coming  blackness.  But  the 
lost  treasure  is  merely  material ;  and  the  child  is  still  in  the 
pathway  of  loving  humanity,  still  within  the  enfolding  arms 
of  an  all-loving  God. 

But  the  drunkards!  Lost!  lost!  lost!  fathers,  brothers, 
husbands,  sons,  lost  to  friends,  to  families,  to  loved  ones, 
to  society ;  lost  to  the  world)  to  the  church ;  and  lost,  forever 
lost,  from  the  circle  of  the  redeemed  that  shall  gather 
around  God's  throne — over  the  rapids,  and  lost. — ("Plat- 
form Echoes/'  copyrighted  1877  ~by  A.  D.  Worthington  & 
Co.,  Hartford,  Conn.) 


SELECTIONS  FOR  PRACTISE  269 

INVECTIVE   AGAINST    CORRY 

BY  HENRY  GRATTAN 

Has  the  gentleman  done?  has  he  completely  done?  He 
was  unparliamentary  from  the  beginning  to  the  end  of 
his  speech.  There  was  scarce  a  word  uttered  that  was  not 
a  violation  of  the  privileges  of  the  House.  But  I  did  not 
call  him  to  order — why?  Because  the  limited  talents  of 
some  men  render  it  impossible  for  them  to  be  severe  with- 
out being  unparliamentary.  But  before  I  sit  down,  I  shall 
show  him  how  to  be  severe  and  parliamentary  at  the  same 
time. 

On  any  other  occasion,  I  should  think  myself  justified 
in  treating  with  silent  contempt  anything  which  might 
fall  from  that  honorable  member ;  but  there  are  times  when 
the  insignificance  of  the  accuser  is  lost  in  the  magnitude  of 
the  accusation.  I  know  the  difficulty  the  honorable  gentle- 
man labored  under  when  he  attacked  me,  conscious  that, 
on  a  comparative  view  of  our  characters,  public  and  pri- 
vate, there  is  nothing  he  could  say  which  would  injure  me. 
The  public  would  not  believe  the  charge.  I  despise  the 
falsehood.  If  such  a  charge  were  .made  by  an  honest  man, 
I  would  answer  it  in  the  manner  I  shall  do  before  I  sit 
down.  But  I  shall  first  reply  to  it,  when  not  made  by  an 
honest  man. 

The  right  honorable  gentleman  has  called  me  "an  unim- 
peached  traitor."  I  ask  why  not  "traitor,"  unqualified  by 
any  epithet  ?  I  will  tell  him ; — it  was  because  he  dare  not. 
It  was  the  act  of  a  coward  who  raises  his  arm  to  strike,  but 
has  not  the  courage  to  give  the  blow.  I  will  not  call  him 
villain,  because  it  would  be  unparliamentary,  and  he  is  a 
Privy  Councilor.  I  will  not  call  him  fool,  because  he  happens 


L>70  HOW  TO  SPEAK  IN  PUBLIC 

to  be  Chancellor  of  the  Exchequer.  But  I  say,  he  is  one  who 
has  abused  the  privilege  of  Parliament  and  freedom  of 
debate  by  uttering  language,  which,  if  spoken  out  of  the 
House,  I  should  answer  only  with  a  blow.  I  care  not  how 
high  his  situation,  how  low  his  character,  how  contemptible 
his  speech;  whether  a  Privy  Councilor  or  a  parasite,  my 
answer  would  be  a  blow. 

He  has  charged  me  with  being  connected  with  the  rebels. 
The  charge  is  utterly,  totally,  and  meanly  false.  Does  the 
honorable  gentleman  rely  on  the  report  of  the  House  of 
Lords  for  the  foundation  of  his  assertion?  If  he  does,  I 
can  prove  to  the  committee  that  there  was  a  physical  im- 
possibility of  that  report  being  true.  But  I  scorn  to  answer 
any  man  for  my  conduct,  whether  he  be  a  political  coxcomb, 
or  whether  he  brought  himself  into  power  by  a  false  glare 
of  courage  or  not. 


I  have  returned,  not  as  the  right  honorable  member  has 
said,  to  raise  another  storm, — I  have  returned  to  discharge 
an  honorable  debt  of  gratitude  to  my  country,  that  con- 
ferred a  great  reward  for  past  services,  which,  I  am  proud 
to  say,  was  not  greater  than  my  desert.  I  have  returned  to 
protect  that  constitution,  of  which  I  was  the  parent  and  the 
founder,  from  the  assassination  of  such  men  as  the  honora- 
ble gentleman  and  his  unworthy  associates.  They  are  cor- 
rupt,— they  are  seditious, — and  they,  at  this  very  moment, 
are  in  a  conspiracy  against  their  country.  I  have  returned 
to  refute  a  libel,  as  false  as  it  is  malicious,  given  to  the 
public  under  the  appellation  of  a  report  of  the  committee 
of  the  Lords.  Here  I  stand  ready  for  impeachment  or  trial : 
I  dare  accusation.  I  defy  the  honorable  gentleman ;  I  defy 


SELECTIONS  FOR  PRACTISE  271 

the  government ;  I  defy  their  whole  phalanx :  let  them  come 
forth.  I  tell  the  ministers  I  will  neither  give  them  quarter 
nor  take  it.  I  am  here  to  lay  the  shattered  remains  of  my 
constitution  on  the  floor  of  this  House  in  defense  of  the 
liberties  of  my  country. 


TOUSSAINT   L'OUVERTURE 
BY  WENDELL  PHILLIPS 

If  I  were  to  tell  you  the  story  of  Napoleon,  I  should  take 
it  from  the  lips  of  Frenchmen,  who  find  no  language  rich 
enough  to  paint  the  great  captain  of  the  nineteenth  cen- 
tury. Were  I  to  tell  you  the  story  of  Washington,  I  should 
take  it  from  your  hearts, — you,  who  think  no  marble  white 
enough  on  which  to  carve  the  name  of  the  Father  of  his 
country.  But  I  am  to  tell  you  the  story  of  a  negro,  Tous- 
saint  L'Ouverture,  who  has  left  hardly  one  written  line. 
I  am  to  glean  it  from  the  reluctant  testimony  of  his  ene- 
mies,— men  who  despised  him  because  he  was  a  negro  and 
a  slave,  hated  him  because  he  had  beaten  them  in  battle. 

Cromwell  manufactured  his  own  army.  Napoleon,  at 
the  age  of  twenty-seven,  was  placed  at  the  head  of  the  best 
troops  Europe  ever  saw.  Cromwell  never  saw  an  army  till 
he  was  forty ;  this  man  never  saw  a  soldier  till  he  was  fifty. 
Cromwell  manufactured  his  own  army — out  of  what?  Eng- 
lishmen,— the  best  blood  in  Europe.  Out  of  the  middle 
class  of  Englishmen, — the  best  blood  of  the  island.  And 
with  it  he  conquered  what?  Englishmen, — their  equals. 
This  man  manufactured  his  army  out  of  what?  Out  of 
what  you  call  the  despicable  race  of  negroes,  debased,  de- 
moralized by  two  hundred  years  of  slavery,  one  hundred 


272  HOW  TO  SPEAK  IN  PUBLIC 

thousand  of  them  imported  into  the  island  within  four 
years,  unable  to  speak  a  dialect  intelligible  even  to  each 
other.  Yet  out  of  this  mixed  and,  as  you  say,  despicable 
mass,  he  forged  a  thunderbolt,  and  hurled  it  at  what?  At 
the  proudest  blood  in  Europe,  the  Spaniard,  and  sent  him 
home  conquered;  at  the  most  warlike  blood  in  Europe,  the 
French,  and  put  them  under  his  feet ;  at  the  pluckiest  blood 
in  Europe,  the  English,  and  they  skulked  home  to  Jamaica. 
Now  if  Cromwell  was  a  general,  this  man  was  a  soldier. 

Now,  blue-eyed  Saxon,  proud  of  your  race,  go  back  with 
me  to  the  commencement  of  the  century,  and  select  what 
statesman  you  please.  Let  him  be  either  American  or 
European;  let  him  have  the  ripest  training  of  university 
routine;  let  him  add  to  it  the  better  education  of  practical 
life ;  crown  his  temples  with  the  silver  locks  of  seventy  years, 
and  show  me  the  man  of  Saxon  lineage  for  whom  his  most 
sanguine  admirer  will  wreathe  a  laurel,  rich  as  embittered 
foes  have  placed  on  the  brow  of  this  negro, — rare  military 
skill,  profound  knowledge  of  human  nature,  content  to  blot 
out  all  party  distinctions,  and  trust  a  state  to  the  blood  of 
its  sons, — anticipating  Sir  Robert  Peel  fifty  years,  and 
taking  his  station  by  the  side  of  Roger  Williams,  before  any 
Englishman  or  American  had  won  the  right;  and  yet  this 
is  the  record  which  the  history  of  rival  States  makes  up 
for  this  inspired  black  of  St.  Domingo. 

Some  doubt  the  courage  of  the  negro.  Go  to  Hayti,  and 
stand  on  those  fifty  thousand  graves  of  the  best  soidiers 
France  ever  had,  and  ask  them  what  they  think  of  the 
negro's  sword. 

I  would  call  him  Napoleon,  but  Napoleon  made  his  way 
to  empire  over  broken  oaths  and  through  a  sea  of  blood. 
This  man  never  broke  his  word.  I  would  call  him  Crom- 


SELECTIONS  FOR  PRACTISE  273 

well,  but  Cromwell  was  only  a  soldier,  and  the  state  he 
founded  went  down  with  him  into  his  grave.  I  would  call 
him  Washington,  but  the  great  Virginian  held  slaves.  This 
man  risked  his  empire  rather  than  permit  the  slave-trade 
in  the  humblest  village  of  his  dominions. 

You  think  me  a  fanatic,  for  you  read  history,  not  with 
your  eyes,  but  with  your  prejudices.  But  fifty  years  hence, 
when  Truth  gets  a  hearing,  the  Muse  of  history  will  put 
Phocion  for  the  Greek,  Brutus  for  the  Roman,  Hampden 
for  England,  Fayette  for  France,  choose  Washington  as 
the  bright  consummate  flower  of  our  earlier  civilization, 
then,  dipping  her  pen  in  the  sunlight,  will  write  in  the 
clear  blue,  above  them  all,  the  name  of  the  soldier,  the 
statesman,  the  martyr,  Toussaint  L'Ouverture. — (Reprinted 
by  permission  of  the  publishers  and  holders  of  copyright, 
Lee  and  Shepard,  Boston.) 


THE  SECRET  OF  LINCOLN'S  POWER 
BY   HENRY  WATTERSON 

What  was  Lincoln 's  mysterious  power,  and  whence  ? 

His  was  the  genius  of  common  sense ;  of  common  sense  in 
action;  of  common  sense  in  thought;  of  common  sense  en- 
riched by  experience  and  unhindered  by  fear.  Inspired, 
he  was  truly,  as  Shakespeare  was  inspired;  as  Mozart  was 
inspired;  as  Burns  was  inspired;  each,  like  him,  sprung 
directly  from  the  people. 

I  look  into-  the  crystal  globe,  that,  slowly  turning,  reveals 
the  story  of  his  life,  and  I  see  a  little  broken-hearted  boy, 
weeping  by  the  outstretched  form  of  a  dead  mother,  then 
bravely,  nobly  trudging  a  hundred  miles  to  obtain  her 


274  HOW  TO  SPEAK  IN  PUBLIC 

Christian  burial.  I  see  this  motherless  lad  growing  to  man- 
hood amid  scenes  that  seem  to  lead  to  nothing  but  abase- 
ment: no  teachers;  no  books;  no  chart,  except  his  own  un- 
tutored mind;  no  compass,  except  his  own  undisciplined 
will ;  no  light,  save  light  from  Heaven ;  yet,  like  the  caravel 
of  Columbus,  struggling  on  and  on  through  the  trough  of 
the  sea,  always  toward  the  destined  land.  I  see  the  full- 
grown  man,  stalwart  and  brave,  an  athlete  in  activity  of 
movement  and  strength  of  limb,  yet  vexed  by  weird  dreams 
and  visions  of  life,  of  love,  of  religion,  sometimes  verging 
on  despair.  I  see  the  mind,  grown  as  robust  as  the  body, 
throw  off  these  phantoms  of  the  imagination  and  give  itself 
to  the  practical  uses  of  this  work-a-day  world;  the  rearing 
of  children;  the  earning  of  bread;  the  cumulous  duties  of 
the  husband,  the  father,  and  the  citizen.  I  see  the  party 
leader,  self-confident  in  conscious  rectitude;  original,  be- 
cause it  was  not  his  nature  to  follow;  potent,  because  he 
was  fearless,  pursuing  his  convictions  with  earnest  zeal,  and 
urging  them  upon  his  fellows  with  the  resources  of  an 
oratory  which  was  hardly  more  impressive  than  it  was  many- 
sided.  I  see  him,  the  preferred  among  his  fellows,  ascend 
to  the  eminence  ordained  for  him,  and  him  alone  among  the 
statesmen  of  the  time,  amid  the  derision  of  opponents  and 
the  distrust  of  supporters,  yet  unawed  and  unmoved,  be- 
cause thoroughly  equipped  to  meet  the  emergency.  The 
same  being,  from  first  to  last :  the  little  boy  weeping  over  a 
dead  mother ;  the  great  chief  sobbing  amid  the  cruel  horrors 
of  war,  flinching  not  from  duty,  nor  changing  his  lifelong 
ways  of  dealing  with  the  stern  realities  which  pressed  upon 
him  and  hurried  him  forward.  And,  last  scene  of  all  that 
ends  this  strange,  eventful  history,  I  see  him  lying  dead 
there  in  the  capitol  of  the  nation,  to  which  he  had  rendered 


SELECTIONS  FOB  PRACTISE  275 

''the  last,  full  measure  of  his  devotion, "  the  flag  of  his 
country  wrapped  about  him,  and  the  world  in  mourning  at 
his  feet.  Surely,  he  was  one  of  God 's  elect ;  not  in  any  sense 
a  creature  of  circumstance,  or  accident,  or  chance. 

The  inspired  are  few.  Whence  their  emanation,  where 
and  how  they  got  their  power,  by  what  rule  they  lived, 
moved  and  had  their  being,  we  know  not.  There  is  no  ex- 
planation to  their  lives.  They  rose  from  shadow  and  they 
went  in  mist.  We  see  them,  feel  them,  but  we  know  them 
not.  They  came,  God 's  word  upon  their  lips ;  they  did  their 
office,  God's  mantle  about  them;  and  they  vanished,  God's 
holy  light  between  the  world  and  them,  leaving  behind  a 
memory,  half  mortal  and  half  myth.  From  first  to  last  they 
were  the  creations  of  some  special  Providence. 

Tried  by  this  standard,  where  shall  we  find  an  illustration 
more  impressive  than  Abraham  Lincoln,  whose  career  might 
be  chanted  by  a  Greek  chorus  as  at  once  the  prelude  and 
the  epilogue  of  the  most  imperial  theme  of  modern  times? 


Where  did  Shakespeare  get  his  genius?  Where  did 
Mozart  get  his  music?  God,  God,  and  God  alone;  and  as 
surely  as  these  were  raised  up  by  God,  inspired  by  God, 
was  Abraham  Lincoln;  and  a  thousand  years  hence,  no 
story,  no  tragedy,  no  epic  poem  will  be  filled  with  greater 
wonder,  or  be  followed  by  mankind  with  deeper  feeling, 
than  that  which  tells  of  his  life  and  death. 


276  HOW  TO  SPEAK  IN  PUBLIC 

THE  DEATH  OF  ABRAHAM  LINCOLN 

BY    HENRY   WARD   BEECHER 

Republican  institutions  have  been  vindicated  in  this  ex- 
perience as  they  never  were  before;  and  the  whole  history 
of  the  last  four  years,  rounded  up  by  this  cruel  stroke,  seems, 
in  the  providence  of  God,  to  have  been  clothed,  now,  with 
an  illustration,  with  a  sympathy,  with  an  aptness,  and  with 
a  significance,  such  as  we  never  could  have  expected  nor 
imagined.  God,  I  think,  has  said,  by  the  voice  of  this  event, 
to  all  nations  of  the  earth :  "  Republican  liberty,  based  upon 
true  Christianity,  is  firm  as  the  foundation  of  the  globe. " 

Even  he  who  now  sleeps  has,  by  this  event,  been  clothed 
with  new  influence.  Dead,  he  speaks  to  men  who  now 
willingly  hear  what  before  they  refused  to  listen  to.  Now 
his  simple  and  weighty  words  will  be  gathered  like  those 
of  Washington,  and  your  children,  and  your  children 's  chil- 
dren, shall  be  taught  to  ponder  the  simplicity  and  deep 
wisdom  of  utterances  which,  in  their  time,  passed,  in  party 
heat,  as  idle  words.  Men  will  receive  a  new  impulse  of 
patriotism  for  his  sake,  and  will  guard  with  zeal  the  whole 
country  which  he  loved  so  well.  I  swear  you,  on  the  altar 
of  his  memory,  to  be  more  faithful  to  the  country  for  which 
he  has  perished.  They  will,  as  they  follow  his  hearse,  swear 
a  new  hatred  to  that  slavery  against  which  he  warred,  and 
which,  in  vanquishing  him,  has  made  him  a  martyr  and  a 
conqueror.  I  swear  you,  by  the  memory  of  this  martyr, 
to  hate  slavery  with  an  unappeasable  hatred.  They  will 
admire  and  imitate  the  firmness  of  this  man,  his  inflexible 
conscience  for  the  right;  and  yet  his  gentleness,  as  tender 
as  a  woman's,  his  moderation  of  spirit,  which  not  all  the 


SELECTIONS  FOR  PRACTISE  277 

heat  of  party  could  inflame,  nor  all  the  jars  and  disturb- 
ances of  this  country  shake  out  of  its  place.  I  swear  you  to 
an  emulation  of  his  justice,  his  moderation,  and  his  mercy. 

You  I  can  comfort ;  but  how  can  I  speak  to  that  twilight 
million  to  whom  his  name  was  as  the  name  of  an  angel  of 
God?  There  will  be  wailing  in  places  which  no  minister 
shall  be  able  to  reach.  When,  in  hovel  and  in  cot,  in  wood 
and  in  wilderness,  in  the  field  throughout  the  South,  the 
dusky  children,  who  looked  upon  him  as  that  Moses  whom 
God  sent  before  them  to  lead  them  out  of  the  land  of  bond- 
age, learn  that  he  has  fallen,  who  shall  comfort  them? 
0  thou  Shepherd  of  Israel,  that  didst  comfort  thy  people  of 
old,  to  thy  care  we  commit  the  helpless,  the  long-wronged, 
and  grieved. 

And  now  the  martyr  is  moving  in  triumphal  march, 
mightier  than  when  alive.  The  nation  rises  up  at  every  stage 
of  his  coming.  Cities  and  states  are  his  pallbearers,  and 
the  cannon  beats  the  hours  with  solemn  progression.  Dead, 
dead,  DEAD,  he  yet  speaketh.  Is  Washington  dead?  Is 
Hampden  dead?  Is  David  dead?  Is  any  man  that  ever 
was  fit  to  live  dead?  Disenthralled  of  flesh,  and  risen  in 
the  unobstructed  sphere  where  passion  never  comes,  he  be- 
gins his  illimitable  work.  His  life  now  is  grafted  upon  the 
infinite,  and  will  be  fruitful  as  no  earthly  life  can  be.  Pass 
on,  thou  that  hast  overcome ! 

Your  sorrows,  O  people,  are  his  peace !  Your  bells,  and 
bands,  and  muffled  drums  sound  triumph  in  his  ear.  Wail 
and  weep  here ;  God  makes  its  echo  joy  and  triumph  there. 
Pass  on ! 

Four  years  ago,  0  Illinois!  we  took  from  your  midst  an 
untried  man,  and  from  among  the  people.  We  return  him 
to  you  a  mighty  conqueror.  Not  thine  any  more,  but  the 


278  HOW  TO  SPEAK  IN  PUBLIC 

nation's;  not  ours,  but  the  world's.    Give  him  place,  0  ye 
prairies ! 

In  the  midst  of  this  great  continent  his  dust  shall  rest,  a 
sacred  treasure  to  myriads  who  shall  pilgrim  to  that  shrine 
to  kindle  anew  their  zeal  and  patriotism.  Ye  winds  that 
move  over  the  mighty  places  of  the  West,  chant  his  requiem ! 
Ye  people,  behold  a  martyr  whose  blood,  as  so  many  artic- 
ulate words,  pleads  for  fidelity,  for  law,  for  liberty! — 
("Patriotic  Addresses,"  copyright  by  Pilgrim  Press, 
Boston.) 

INAUGURAL  ADDRESS 
BY   THEODORE   ROOSEVELT 

MY  FELLOW  CITIZENS: — No  people  on  earth  have  more 
cause  to  be  thankful  than  ours,  and  this  is  said  reverently, 
in  no  spirit  of  boastfulness  in  our  own  strength,  but  with 
gratitude  to  the  Giver  of  Good,  who  has  blessed  us  with  the 
conditions  which  have  enabled  us  to  achieve  so  large  a 
measure  of  well-being  and  of  happiness.  To  us  as  a  people 
it  has  been  granted  to  lay  the  foundations  of  our  national 
life  in  a  new  continent.  We  are  the  heirs  of  the  ages,  and 
yet  we  have  had  to  pay  few  of  the  penalties  which,  in  old 
countries,  are  exacted  by  the  dead  hand  of  a  bygone  civil- 
ization. 

We  have  not  been  obliged  to  fight  for  our  existence 
against  any  alien  race,  and  yet  our  life  has  called  for  the 
vigor  and  effort  without  which  the  manlier  and  hardier 
virtues  wither  away.  Under  such  conditions  it  would  be 
our  fault  if  we  failed,  and  the  success  which  we  have  had 
in  the  past,  the  success  which  we  confidently  believe  the 
future  will  bring,  should  cause  in  us  no  feeling  of  vain 


SELECTIONS  FOR  PRACTISE  279 

glory,  but  rather  a  deep  and  abiding  realization  of  all  which 
life  has  offered  us ;  a  full  acknowledgment  of  the  responsibil- 
ity which  is  ours,  and  a  fixed  determination  to  show  that 
under  a  free  government  a  mighty  people  can  thrive  best, 
alike  as  regards  the  things  of  the  body  and  the  things  of 
the  soul. 

Much  has  been  given  to  us  and  much  will  rightfully  be 
expected  from  us.  We  have  duties  to  others  and  duties  to 
ourselves,  and  we  can  shirk  neither.  We  have  become  a 
great  nation,  forced  by  the  fact  of  its  greatness  into  rela- 
tions with  the  other  nations  of  the  earth,  and  we  must  be- 
have as  beseems  a  people  with  such  responsibilities.  Toward 
all  other  nations,  large  and  small,  our  attitude  must  be  one 
of  cordial  and  sincere  friendship.  We  must  show  not  only 
in  our  words  but  in  our  deeds  that  we  are  earnestly  desirous 
of  securing  their  good  will  by  acting  toward  them  in  a  spirit 
of  just  and  generous  recognition  of  all  their  rights.^. 

But  justice  and  generosity  in  a  nation,  as  in  an  individual, 
count  most  when  shown  not  by  the  weak  but  by  the  strong. 
While  ever  careful  to  refrain  from  wronging  others,  we 
must  be  no  less  insistent  that  we  are  not  wronged  ourselves. 
We  wish  peace,  but  we  wish  the  peace  of  justice,  the  peace 
of  righteousness.  We  wish  it  because  we  think  it  is  right 
and  not  because  we  are  afraid. 

No  weak  nation  that  acts  rightly  and  justly  should  ever 
have  cause  to  fear  us,  and  no  strong  power  should  ever  be 
able  to  single  us  out  as  a  subject  for  insolent  aggression. 
Our  relations  with  the  other  powers  of  the  world  are  im- 
portant; but  still  more  important  are  our  relations  among 
ourselves.  Such  growth  in  wealth,  in  population  and  in 
power  as  this  nation  has  seen  during  the  century  and  a 
quarter  of  its  national  life  is  inevitably  accompanied  by  a 


280  HOW  TO  SPEAK  IN  PUBLIC 

like  growth  in  the  problems  which  are  ever  before  every 
nation  that  rises  to  greatness. 

Power  invariably  means  both  responsibility  and  danger. 
Our  forefathers  faced  certain  perils  which  we  have  out- 
grown. We  now  face  other  perils  the  very  existence  of 
which  it  was  impossible  that  they  should  foresee.  Modern 
life  is  both  complex  and  intense,  and  the  tremendous  changes 
wrought  by  the  extraordinary  industrial  development  of 
the  half  century  are  felt  in  every  fiber  of  our  social  and 
political  being.  Never  before  have  men  tried  so  vast  and 
formidable  an  experiment  as  that  of  administering  the  af- 
fairs of  a  continent  under  the  forms  of  a  democratic 
republic. 

The  conditions  which  have  told  of  our  marvelous  mate- 
rial well-being,  which  have  developed  to  a  very  high  degree 
our  energy,  self-reliance  and  individual  initiative,  also  have 
brought  the  care  and  anxiety  inseparable  from  the  accumu- 
lation of  great  wealth  in  industrial  centers.  Upon  the  suc- 
cess of  our  experiment  much  depends,  not  only  as  regards 
our  own  welfare,  but  as  regards  the  welfare  of  mankind. 

If  we  fail,  the  cause  of  free  self-government  throughout 
the  world  will  rock  to* its  foundations;  and  therefore  our 
responsibility  is  heavy,  to  ourselves,  to  the  world  as  it  is 
to-day,  and  to  the  generations  yet  unborn.  There  is  no  good 
reason  why  we  should  fear  the  future,  but  there  is  every 
reason  why  we  should  face  it  seriously,  neither  hiding  from 
ourselves  the  gravity  of  the  problems  before  us  nor  fearing 
to  approach  these  problems  with  the  unbending,  unflinching 
purpose  to  solve  them  aright. 

Yet,  after  all,  tho  the  problems  are  new,  tho  the 
tasks  set  before  us  differ  from  the  tasks  set  before  our 
fathers  who  founded  and  preserved  this  republic,  the  spirit 


SELECTIONS  FOR  PRACTISE  281 

in  which  these  tasks  must  be  undertaken  and  these  problems 
faced,  if  our  duty  is  to  be  well  done,  remains  essentially 
unchanged.  We  know  that  self-government  is  difficult.  We 
know  that  no  people  needs  such  high  traits  of  character  as 
that  people  which  seeks  to  govern  its  affairs  aright  through 
the  freely  expressed  will  of  the  free  men  who  compose  it. 

But  we  have  faith  that  we  shall  not  prove  false  to  the 
memories  of  the  men  of  the  mighty  past.  They  did  their 
work,  they  left  us  the  splendid  heritage  we  now  enjoy.  We 
in  our  turn  have  an  assured  confidence  that  we  shall  be  able 
to  leave  this  heritage  unwasted  and  enlarged  to  our  children 
and  our  children's  children. 

To  do  so,  we  must  show, -not  merely  in  great  crises,  but 
in  the  every-day  affairs  of  life,  the  qualities  of  practical  in- 
telligence, of  courage,  of  hardihood  and  endurance,  and 
above  all  the  power  of  devotion  to  a  lofty  ideal,  which  made 
great  the  men  who  founded  this  republic  in  the  days  of 
Washington,  which  made  great  the  men  who  preserved  this 
republic  in  the  days  of  Abraham  Lincoln. 

A  VISION  OF  WAR  AND  A  VISION  OF  THE  FUTURE 
BY   ROBERT   G.   INGERSOLL 

The  past  rises  before  me  like  a  dream.  Again  we  are  in 
the  great  struggle  for  national  life.  We  hear  the  sounds 
of  preparation — the  music  of  boisterous  drums — the  silver 
voices  of  heroic  bugles.  We  see  thousands  of  assemblages, 
and  hear  the  appeals  of  orators.  We  see  the  pale  cheeks  of 
women,  and  the  flushed  faces  of  men;  and  in  those  assem- 
blages we  see  all  the  dead  whose  dust  we  have  covered  with 
flowers.  We  lose  sight  of  them  no  more.  We  are  with  them 
when  they  enlist  in  the  great  army  of  freedom.  We  see 


282  HOW  TO  SPEAK  IN  PUBLIC 

them  part  with  those  they  love.  Some  are  walking  for  the 
last  time  in  quiet,  woody  places,  with  the  maidens  they 
adore.  We  hear  the  whisperings  and  the  sweet  vows  of 
eternal  love  as  they  lingeringly  part  forever.  Others  are 
bending  over  cradles,  kissing  babes  that  are  asleep.  Some 
are  receiving  the  blessings  of  old  men.  Some  are  parting 
with  mothers  who  hold  them  and  press  them  to  their  hearts 
again  and  again,  and  say  nothing.  Kisses  and  tears,  tears 
and  kisses ;  divine  mingling  of  agony  and  love !  And  some 
are  talking  with  wives,  and  endeavoring  with  brave  words, 
spoken  in  the  old  tones,  to  drive  from  their  hearts  the  awful 
fear.  We  see  them  part  We  see  the  wife  standing  in  the 
door  with  the  babe  in  her  arms — standing  in  the  sunlight 
sobbing.  At  the  turn  of  the  road  a  hand  waves — she  an- 
swers by  holding  high  in  her  loving  arms  the  child.  He  is 
gone,  and  forever. 

We  see  them  all  as  they  march  proudly  away  under  the 
flaunting  flags,  keeping  time  to  the  grand,  wild  music  of 
war — marching  down  the  streets  of  the  great  cities — through 
the  towns  and  across  the  prairies — down  to  the  fields  of 
glory,  to  do  and  to  die  for  the  eternal  right. 

We  go  with  them,  one  and  all.  We  are  by  their  side  on 
all  the  gory  fields — in  all  the  hospitals  of  pain — on  all  the 
weary  marches.  We  stand  guard  with  them  on  the  wild 
storm  and  under  the  quiet  stars.  We  are  with  them  in 
ravines  running  with  blood — in  the  furrows  of  old  fields. 
We  are  with  them  between  contending  hosts, ,  unable  to 
move,  wild  with  thirst,  the  life  ebbing  slowly  away  among 
the  withered  leaves.  We  see  them  pierced  by  balls  and  torn 
with  shells, — in  the  trenches,  by  forts,  and  in  the  whirl- 
wind of  the  charge,  where  men  become  iron,  with  nerves 
of  steel. 


SELECTIONS  FOR  PRACTISE  283 

We  are  with  them  in  the  prisons  of  hatred  and  famine; 
but  human  speech  can  never  tell  what  they  endured. 

We  are  at  home  when  the  news  comes  that  they  are  dead. 
We  see  the  maiden  in  the  shadow  of  her  first  sorrow.  We 
see  the  silvered  head  of  the  old  man  bowed  with  the  last 
grief. 

The  past  rises  before  us,  and  we  see  four  millions  of 
human  beings  governed  by  the  lash!  We  see  them  bound 
hand  and  foot;  we  hear  the  strokes  of  cruel  whips;  we  see 
the  hounds  tracking  women  through  tangled  swamps;  we 
see  babes  sold  from  the  breasts  of  mothers.  Cruelty  un- 
speakable! Outrage  infinite! 

Four  million  bodies  in  chains — four  million  souls  in  fet- 
ters! All  the  sacred  relations  of  wife,  mother,  father,  and 
child  trampled  beneath  the  brutal  feet  of  might.  And  all 
this  was  done  under  our  own  beautiful  banner  of  the  free. 

The  past  rises  before  us.  We  hear  the  roar  and  shriek  of 
the  bursting  shell.  The  broken  fetters  fall.  These  heroes 
died.  We  look.  Instead  of  slaves  we  see  men  and  women 
and  children.  The  wand  of  progress  touches  the  auction 
block,  the  slave  pen,  the  whipping  post,  and  we  see  homes 
and  firesides  and  schoolhouses  and  books,  and  where  all 
was  want  and  crime  and  cruelty  and  fear,  we  see  the  faces 
of  the  free. 

These  heroes  are  dead.  They  died  for  liberty — they  died 
for  us.  They  are  at  rest.  They  sleep  in  the  land  they  made 
free,  under  the  flag  they  rendered  stainless,  under  the 
solemn  pines,  the  sad  hemlocks,  the  tearful  willows,  and  the 
embracing  vines.  They  sleep  beneath  the  shadows  of  the 
clouds,  careless  alike  of  sunshine  or  of  storm,  each  in  the 
windowless  Palace  of  Rest.  Earth  may  run  red  with  other 
wars — they  are  at  peace.  In  the  midst  of  battle,  in  the  roar 


284  HOW  TO  SPEAK  IN  PUBLIC 

of  conflict,  they  found  the  serenity  of  death.  I  have  one 
sentiment  for  soldiers  living  and  dead:  Cheers  for  the 
living;  tears  for  the  dead. 

A  vision  of  the  future  rises: 

I  see  our  country  filled  with  happy  homes,  with  firesides 
of  content, — the  foremost  land  of  all  the  earth. 

I  see  a  world  where  thrones  have  crumbled  and  where 
kings  are  dust.  The  aristocracy  of  idleness  has  perished 
from  the  earth. 

I  see  a  world  without  a  slave.  Man  at  last  is  free.  Na- 
ture 's  forces  have  by  science  been  enslaved.  Lightning  and 
light,  wind  and  wave,  frost  and  flame,  and  all  the  secret, 
subtle  powers  of  earth  and  air  are  the  tireless  toilers  for 
the  human  race. 

I  see  a  world  at  peace,  adorned  with  every  form  of  art, 
with  music 's  myriad  voices  thrilled,  while  lips  are  rich  with 
words  of  love  and  truth, — a  world  in  which  no  exile  sighs, 
no  prisoner  mourns;  a  world  on  which  the  gibbet's  shadow 
does  not  fall ;  -a  world  where  labor  reaps  its  full  reward ; 
where  work  and  worth  go  hand  in  hand;  where  the  poor 
girl  trying  to  win  bread  with  the  needle — the  needle,  that 
has  been  called  '  *  the  asp  for  the  breast  of  the  poor ' ' — is  not 
driven  to  the  desperate  choice  of  crime  or  death,  of  suicide 
or  shame. 

I  see  a  world  without  the  beggar's  outstretched  palm,  the 
miser's  heartless,  stony  stare,  the  piteous  wail  of  want,  the 
livid  lips  of  lies,  the  cruel  eyes  of  scorn. 

I  see  a  race  without  disease  of  flesh  or  brain — shapely 
and  fair,  the  married  harmony  of  form  and  function — and, 
as  I  look,  life  lengthens,  joy  deepens,  love  canopies  the 
earth;  and  over  all,  in  the  great  dome,  shines  the  eternal 
star  of  human  hope. 


SELECTIONS  FOR  PRACTISE  285 

GIVE  ME  LIBERTY  OR  GIVE  ME  DEATH 
BY  PATRICK   HENRY 

MR.  PRESIDENT  : — No  man  thinks  more  highly  than  I  do  of 
the  patriotism,  as  well  as  abilities,  of  the  very  worthy  gen- 
tlemen who  have  just  addressed  the  house.  But  different 
men  often  see  the  same  subject  in  different  lights;  and, 
therefore,  I  hope  it  will  not  be  thought  disrespectful  to 
those  gentlemen,  if,  entertaining  as  I  do  opinions  of  a  char- 
acter very  opposite  to  theirs,  I  shall  speak  forth  my  senti- 
ments freely  and  without  reserve.  This  is  no  time  for 
ceremony.  The  question  before  the  House  is  one  of  awful 
moment  to  this  country.  For  my  own  part,  I  consider  it 
as  nothing  less  than  a  question  of  freedom  or  slavery ;  and 
in  proportion  to  the  magnitude  of  the  subject  ought  to  be 
the  freedom  of  the  debate.  It  is  only  in  this  way  that  we 
can  hope  to  arrive  at  truth,  and  fulfil  the  great  responsibil- 
ity which  we  hold  to  God  and  our  country.  Should  I  keep 
back  my  opinions  at  such  a  time,  through  fear  of  giving 
offense,  I  should  consider  myself  as  guilty  of  treason  to- 
ward my  country,  and  of  an  act  of  disloyalty  toward  the 
Majesty  of  Heaven,  which  I  revere  above  all  earthly  kings. 

Mr.  President,  it  is  natural  to  man  to  indulge  in  the  il- 
lusions of  hope.  We  are  apt  to  shut  our  eyes  against  a 
painful  truth,  and  listen  to  the  song  of  that  siren,  till  she 
transforms  us  into  beasts.  Is  this  the  part  of  wise  men,  en- 
gaged in  a  great  and  arduous  struggle  for  liberty?  Are 
we  disposed  to  be  of  the  number  of  those,  who,  having  eyes, 
see  not,  and  having  ears,  hear  not,  the  things  which  so 
nearly  concern  their  temporal  salvation?  For  my  part, 


286  HOW  TO  SPEAK  IN  PUBLIC 

whatever  anguish  of  spirit  it  may  cost,  I  am  willing  to  know 
the  whole  truth;  to  know  the  worst,  and  to  provide  for  it. 
I  have  but  one  lamp  by  which  my  feet  are  guided,  and 
that  is  the  lamp  of  experience.  I  know  of  no  way  of  judg- 
ing of  the  future  but  by  the  past.  And  judging  by  the  past, 
I  wish  to  know  what  there  has  been  in  the  conduct  of  the 
British  Ministry  for  the  last  ten  years  to  justify  those  hopes 
with  which  gentlemen  have  been  pleased  to  solace  them- 
selves and  the  House.  Is  it  that  insidious  smile  with  which 
our  petition  has  been  lately  received?  Trust  it  not,  sir;  it 
will  prove  a  snare  to  your  feet.  Suffer  not  yourselves  to  be 
betrayed  with  a  kiss.  Ask  yourselves  how  this  gracious  re- 
ception of  our  petition  comports  with  those  warlike  prepa- 
rations which  cover  our  waters  and  darken  our  land.  Are 
fleets  and  armies  necessary  to  a  work  of  love  and  reconcilia- 
tion? Have  we  shown  ourselves  so  unwilling  to  be  recon- 
ciled, that  force  must  be  called  in  to  win  back  our  love? 
Let  us  not  deceive  ourselves,  sir.  These  are  the  implements 
of  war  and  subjugation ;  the  last  arguments  to  which  kings 
resort.  I  ask,  gentlemen,  sir,  What  means  this  martial  array, 
if  its  purpose  be  not  to  force  us  to  submission?  Can  gen- 
tlemen assign  any  other  possible  motive  for  it?  Has  Great 
Britain  any  enemy,  in  this  quarter  of  the  world,  to  call  for 
all  this  accumulation  of  navies  and  armies?  No,  sir,  she 
has  none.  They  are  meant  for  us :  they  can  be  meant  for 
no  other.  They  are  sent  over  to  bind  and  rivet  upon  us 
those  chains  which  the  British  Ministry  have  been  so  long 
forging.  And  what  have  we  to  oppose  to  them  ?  Shall  we 
try  argument?  Sir,  we  have  been  trying  that  for  the  last 
ten  years.  Have  we  anything  new  to  offer  upon  the  sub- 
ject? Nothing.  We  have  held  the  subject  up  in  every  light 
of  which  it  is  capable;  but  it  has  been  alt  in  vain.  Shall 


SELECTIONS  FOR  PRACTISE  287 

we  resort  to  entreaty  and  humble  supplication?  What 
terms  shall  we  find,  which  have  not  been  already  exhausted  ? 
Let  us  not,  I  beseech  you,  sir,  deceive  ourselves  longer. 
Sir,  we  have  done  everything  that  could  be  done  to  avert 
the  storm  which  is  now  coming  on.  We  have  petitioned; 
we  have  remonstrated ;  we  have  supplicated ;  we  have  pros- 
trated ourselves  before  the  throne,  and  have  implored  its 
interposition  to  arrest  the  tyrannical  hands  of  the  Ministry 
and  Parliament.  Our  petitions  have  been  slighted;  our 
remonstrances  have  produced  additional  violence  and  in- 
sult ;  our  supplications  have  been  disregarded ;  and  we  have 
been  spurned,  with  contempt,  from  the  foot  of  the  throne! 
In  vain,  after  these  things,  may  we  indulge  the  fond  hope 
of  peace  and  reconciliation.  There  is  no  longer  any  room 
for  hope.  If  we  wish  to  be  free — if  we  mean  to  preserve 
inviolate  those  inestimable  privileges  for  which  we  have 
been  so  long  contending — if  we  mean  not  basely  to  abandon 
the  noble  struggle  in  which  we  have  been  so  long  engaged, 
and  which  we  have  pledged  ourselves  never  to  abandon, 
until  the  glorious  object  of  our  contest  shall  be  obtained — 
we  must  fight !  I  repeat  it,  sir,  we  must  fight !  An  appeal 
to  arms  and  to  the  God  of  Hosts  is  all  that  is  left  us ! 

They  tell  us,  sir,  that  we  are  weak ;  unable  to  cope  with 
so  formidable  an  adversary.  But  when  shall  we  be  stronger  ? 
Will  it  be  the  next  week,  or  the  next  year  ?  Will  it  be  when 
we  are  totally  disarmed,  and  when  a  British  guard  shall  be 
stationed  in  every  house?  Shall  we  gather  strength  by  ir- 
resolution and  inaction?  Shall  we  acquire  the  means  of 
effectual  resistance  by  lying  supinely  on  our  backs  and  hug- 
ging the  delusive  phantom  of  hope,  until  our  enemies  shall 
have  bound  us  hand  and  foot  ?  Sir,  we  are  not  weak,  if  we 
make  a  proper  use  of  those  means  which  the  God  of  nature 


288  HOW  TO  SPEAK  IN  PUBLIC 

lias  placed  in  our  power.  Three  millions  of  people,  armed 
in  the  holy  cause  of  liberty,  and  in  such  a  country  as  that 
which  we  possess,  are  invincible  by  any  force  which  our 
enemy  can  send  against  us.  Besides,  sir,  we  shall  not  fight 
our  battles  alone.  There  is  a  just  God  who  presides  over 
the  destinies  of  nations,  and  who  will  raise  up  friends  to 
fight  our  battles  for  us.  The  battle,  sir,  is  not  to  the  strong 
alone ;  it  is  to  the  vigilant,  the  active,  the  brave.  Besides, 
sir,  we  have  no  election.  If  we  were  base  enough  to  desire 
it,  it  is  now  too  late  to  retire  from  the  contest.  There  is 
no  retreat,  but  in  submission  and  slavery !  Our  chains  are 
forged!  Their  clanking  may  be  heard  on  the  plains  of 
Boston !  The  war  is  inevitable — and  let  it  come !  I  repeat 
it,  sir,  let  it  come. 

It  is  in  vain,  sir,  to  extenuate  the  matter.  Gentlemen 
may  cry,  Peace,  Peace — but  there  is  no  peace.  The  war  is 
actually  begun !  The  next  gale  that  sweeps  from  the  north 
will  bring  to  our  ears  the  clash  of  resounding  arms!  Our 
brethren  are  already  in  the  field !  Why  stand  we  here  idle  ? 
What  is  it  that  gentlemen  wish?  What  would  they  have? 
Is  life  so  dear,  or  peace  so  sweet,  as  to  be  purchased  at  the 
price  of  chains  and  slavery  ?  Forbid  it,  Almighty  God !  I 
know  not  what  course  others  may  take ;  but  as  for  me,  give 
me  liberty  or  give  me  death  1 


SELECTIONS  FOR  PRACTISE  289 

SECOND  INAUGURAL  ADDRESS 

BY   ABRAHAM    LINCOLN 

FELLOW  COUNTRYMEN  : — At  this  second  appearing  to  take 
the  oath  of  the  Presidential  office,  there  is  less  occasion  for 
an  extended  address  than  there  was  at  first.  Then  a  state- 
ment, somewhat  in  detail,  of  a  course  to  be  pursued  seemed 
very  fitting  and  proper.  Now,  at  the  expiration  of  four 
years,  during  which  public  declarations  have  been  con- 
stantly called  forth  on  every  point  and  phase  of  the  great 
contest  which  still  absorbs  the  attention  and  engrosses  the 
energies  of  the  nation,  little  that  is  new  could  be  presented. 

The  progress  of  our  arms,  upon  which  all  else  chiefly 
depends,  is  as  well  known  to  the  public  as  to  myself,  and 
it  is,  I  trust,  reasonably  satisfactory  and  encouraging  to 
all.  With  high  hope  for  the  future,  no  prediction  in  regard 
to  it  is  ventured. 

On  the  occasion  corresponding  to  this  four  years  ago,  all 
thoughts  were  anxiously  directed  to  an  impending  civil  war. 
All  dreaded  it,  all  sought  to  avoid  it.  While  the  inaugural 
address  was  being  delivered  from  this  place,  devoted  alto- 
gether to  saving  the  Union  without  war,  insurgent  agents 
were  in  the  city  seeking  to  destroy  it  with  war — seeking  to 
dissolve  the  Union  and  divide  the  effects  by  negotiation. 
Both  parties  deprecated  war,  but  one  of  them  would  make 
war  rather  than  let  the  nation  survive,  and  the  other  would 
accept  war  rather  than  let  it  perish,  and  the  war  came.  One- 
eighth  of  the  whole  population  were  colored  slaves,  not 
distributed  generally  over  the  Union,  but  localized  in  the 
southern  part  of  it.  These  slaves  constituted  a  peculiar 
and  powerful  interest.  All  knew  that  this  interest  was 


290  HOW  TO  SPEAK  IN  PUBLIC 

somehow  the  cause  of  the  war.  To  strengthen,  perpetuate, 
and  extend  this  interest  was  the  object  for  which  the  in- 
surgents would  rend  the  Union  by  war,  while  the  govern- 
ment claimed  no  right  to  do  more  than  restrict  the  ter- 
ritorial enlargement  of  it. 

Neither  party  expected  for  the  war  the  magnitude  or  the 
duration  which  it  has  already  attained.  Neither  anticipated 
that  the  cause  of  the  conflict  might  cease  when,  or  even 
before  the  conflict  itself  should  cease.  Each  looked  for  an 
easier  triumph,  and  a  result  less  fundamental  and  astound- 
ing. Both  read  the  same  Bible  and  pray  to  the  same  God, 
and  each  invokes  his  aid  against  the  other.  It  may  seem 
strange  that  any  men  should  dare  to  ask  a  just  God's  assist- 
ance in  wringing  their  bread  from  the  sweat  of  other  men's 
faces,  but  let  us  judge  not,  that  we  be  not  judged.  The 
prayer  of  both  could  not  be  answered.  That  of  neither  has 
been  answered  fully.  The  Almighty  has  his  own  purposes. 
' '  Woe  unto  the  world  because  of  offenses,  for  it  must  needs 
be  that  offenses  come,  but  woe  to  that  man  by  whom  the 
offense  cometh ! "  If  we  shall  suppose  that  American  slavery 
is  one  of  those  offenses  which,  in  the  providence  of  God, 
must  needs  come,  but  which  having  continued  through  His 
appointed  time,  He  now  wills  to  remove,  and  that  He  gives 
to  both  North  and  South  this  terrible  war  as  the  woe  due 
to  those  by  whom  the  offense  came,  shall  we  discern  there 
any  departure  from  those  divine  attributes  which  the  be- 
lievers in  a  living  God  always  ascribe  to  Him?  Fondly  do 
we  hope,  fervently  do  we  pray,  that  this  mighty  scourge 
of  war  may  speedily  pass  away.  Yet  if  God  wills  that  it 
continue  until  all  the  wealth  piled  by  the  bondman's  two 
hundred  and  fifty  years  of  unrequited  toil  shall  be  sunk, 
and  until  every  drop  of  blood  drawn  with  the  lash  shall  be 


SELECTIONS  FOR  PRACTISE  291 

paid  by  another  drawn  with  the  sword,  as  was  said  three 
thousand  years  ago,  so  still  it  must  be  said,  that  the  judg- 
ments of  the  Lord  are  true  and  righteous  altogether. 

With  malice  toward  none,  with  charity  for  all,  with  firm- 
ness in  the  right  as  God  gives  us  to  see  the  right,  let  us  finish 
the  work  we  are  in,  to  bind  up  the  nation's  wounds,  to  care 
for  him  who  shall  have  borne  the  battle,  and  for  his  widow 
and  his  orphans,  to  do  all  which  may  achieve  and  cherish 
a  just  and  a  lasting  peace  among  ourselves  and  with  all 
nations. 


FAREWELL  ADDRESS 
BY   GEORGE   WASHINGTON 

FRIENDS  AND  FELLOW  CITIZENS: — The  period  for  a  new 
election  of  a  citizen  to  administer  the  executive  government 
of  the  United  States  being  not  far  distant,  and  the  time  actu- 
ally arrived  when  your  thoughts  must  be  employed  in  des- 
ignating the  person  who  is  to  be  clothed  with  that  important 
trust,  it  appears  to  me  proper,  especially  as  it  may  conduce 
to  a  more  distinct  expression  of  the  public  voice,  that  I 
should  now  apprise  you  of  the  resolution  I  have  formed,  to 
decline  being  considered  among  the  number  of  those  out  of 
whom  a  choice  is  to  be  made. 

I  beg  you,  at  the  same  time,  to  do  me  the  justice  to  be 
assured  that  this  resolution  has  not  been  taken  without  a 
strict  regard  to  all  the  considerations  appertaining  to  the 
relation  which  binds  a  dutiful  citizen  to  his  country;  and 
that  in  withdrawing  the  tender  of  service,  which  silence  in 
my  situation  might  imply,  I  am  influenced  by  no  diminution 
of  zeal  for  your  future  interest,  no  deficiency  of  grateful 


292  HOW  TO  SPEAK  IN  PUBLIC 

respect  for  your  past  kindness,  but  am  supported  by  a  full 
conviction  that  the  step  is  compatible  with  both. 

The  acceptance  of,  and  continuance  hitherto  in,  the  office 
to  which  your  suffrages  have  twice  called  me  have  been  a 
uniform  sacrifice  of  inclination  to  the  opinion  of  duty  and 
to  a  deference  for  what  appeared  to  be  your  desire.  I 
constantly  hoped  that  it  would  have  been  much  earlier  in 
my  power,  consistently  with  motives  which  I  was  not  at 
liberty  to  disregard,  to  return  to  that  retirement  from  which 
I  had  been  reluctantly  drawn.  The  strength  of  my  inclina- 
tion to  do  this,  previous  to  the  last  election,  had  even  led 
to  the  preparation  of  an  address  to  declare  it  to  you;  but 
mature  reflection  on  the  then  perplexed  and  critical  posture 
of  our  affairs  with  foreign  nations,  and  the  unanimous  ad- 
vice of  persons  entitled  to  my  confidence,  impelled  me  to 
abandon  the  idea. 

I  rejoice  that  the  state  of  your  concerns,  external  as  well 
as  internal,  no  longer  renders  the  pursuit  of  inclination  in- 
compatible with  the  sentiment  of  duty  or  propriety,  and  am 
persuaded,  whatever  partiality  may  be  retained  for  my 
services,  that,  in  the  present  circumstances  of  our  country, 
you  will  not  disapprove  my  determination  to  retire. 

The  impressions  with  which  I  first  undertook  the  arduous 
trust  were  explained  on  the  proper  occasion.  In  the  dis- 
charge of  this  trust,  I  will  only  say  that  I  have,  with  good 
intentions,  contributed  toward  the  organization  and  ad- 
ministration of  the  government  the  best  exertions  of  which 
a  very  fallible  judgment  was  capable.  Not  unconscious  in 
the  outset  of  the  inferiority  of  my  qualifications,  expe- 
rience in  my  own  eyes,  perhaps  still  more  in  the  eyes  of  oth- 
ers, has  strengthened  the  motives  to  difficulties  of  myself; 
and  every  day  the  increasing  weight  of  years  admonishes 


SELECTIONS  FOR  PRACTISE  293 

me  more  and  more  that  the  shade  of  retirement  is  as  nec- 
essary to  me  as  it  will  be  welcome.  Satisfied  that  if  any 
circumstances  have  given  peculiar  value  to  my  services, 
they  were  temporary,  I  have  the  consolation  to  believe 
that,  while  choice  and  prudence  invite  me  to  quit  the  po- 
litical scene,  patriotism  does  not  forbid  it. 

In  looking  forward  to  the  moment  which  is  intended  to 
terminate  the  career  of  my  public  life,  my  feelings  do  not 
permit  me  to  suspend  the  deep  acknowledgment  of  that 
debt  of  gratitude  which  I  owe  to  my  beloved  country  for 
the  many  honors  it  has  conferred  upon  me;  still  more  for 
the  steadfast  confidence  with  which  it  has  supported  me; 
and  for  the  opportunities  I  have  thence  enjoyed  of  mani- 
festing my  inviolable  attachment,  by  services  faithful  and 
persevering,  tho  in  usefulness  unequal  to  my  zeal.  If  bene- 
fits have  resulted  to  our  country  from  these  services,  let  it 
always  be  remembered  to  your  praise,  and  as  an  instructive 
example  in  our  annals,  that  under  circumstances  in  which 
the  passions,  agitated  in  every  direction,  were  likely  to  mis- 
lead, amid  appearances  sometimes  dubious,  vicissitudes  of. 
fortune  often  discouraging,  in  situations  in  which  not  in- 
frequently want  of  success  has  countenanced  the  spirit  of 
criticism,  the  constancy  of  your  support  was  the  essential 
prop  of  the  efforts,  and  a  guarantee  of  the  plans  by  which 
they  were  effected.  Profoundly  penetrated  with  this  idea, 
I  shall  carry  it  with  me  to  my  grave,  as  a  strong  incitement 
to  unceasing  vows  that  heaven  may  continue  to  you  the 
choicest  tokens  of  its  beneficence;  that  your  union  and 
brotherly  affection  may  be  perpetual;  that  the  free  Con- 
stitution, which  is  the  wrork  of  your  hands,  may  be  sacredly 
maintained;  that  its  administrations  in  every  department 
may  be  stamped  with  wisdom  and  virtue ;  that,  in  fine,  the 


294  HOW  TO  SPEAK  IN  PUBLIC 

happiness  of  the  people  of  these  States,  under  the  auspices 
of  liberty,  may  be  made  complete  by  so  careful  a  preserva- 
tion and  so  prudent  a  use  of  this  blessing  as  will  require 
to  them  the  glory  of  recommending  it  to  the  applause,  the 
affection,  and  adoption  of  every  nation  which  is  yet  a 
stranger  to  it. 

Here,  perhaps,  I  ought  to  stop.  But  a  solicitude  for  your 
welfare,  which  cannot  end  but  with  my  life,  and  the  appre- 
hension of  danger,  natural  to  that  solicitude,  urge  me,  on 
an  occasion  like  the  present,  to  offer  to  your  solemn  con- 
templation, and  to  recommend  to  your  frequent  review, 
some  sentiments  which  are  the  result  of  much  reflection, 
of  no  inconsiderable  observation,  and  which  appear  to  me 
all-important  to  the  permanency  of  your  felicity  as  a  peo- 
ple. These  will  be  offered  to  you  with  the  more  freedom, 
as  you  can  only  see  in  them  the  disinterested  warnings  of 
a  parting  friend,  who  can  possibly  have  no  personal  motive 
to  bias  his  counsel.  Nor  can  I  forget,  as  an  encouragement 
to  it,  your  indulgent  reception  of  my  sentiments  on  a  for- 
mer and  not  dissimilar  occasion. 

Interwoven  as  is  the  love  of  liberty  with  every  ligament 
of  your  hearts,  no  recommendation  of  mine  is  necessary  to 
fortify  or  confirm  the  attachment. 

The  unity  of  government  which  constitutes  you  one  peo- 
ple is  also  now  dear  to  you.  It  is  justly  so,  for  it  is  a  main 
pillar  in  the  edifice  of  your  real  independence ;  the  support 
of  your  tranquillity  at  home,  your  peace  abroad;  of  your 
safety,  of  your  prosperity ;  of  that  very  liberty  which  you 
so  highly  prize.  But  as  it  is  easy  to  foresee  that,  from  dif- 
ferent causes  and  from  different  quarters,  much  pains  will 
be  taken,  many  artifices  employed,  to  weaken  in  your  minds 
the  conviction  of  this  truth;  as  this  is  the  point  in  your 


SELECTIONS  FOR  PRACTISE  295 

political  fortress  against  which  the  batteries  of  internal 
and  external  enemies  will  be  most  constantly  and  actively 
(tho  often  covertly  and  insidiously)  directed,  it  is  of  in- 
finite moment  that  you  should  properly  estimate  the  im- 
mense value  of  your  national  union  to  your  collective  and 
individual  happiness;  that  you  should  cherish  a  cordial, 
habitual,  and  immovable  attachment  to  it;  accustoming 
yourselves  to  think  and  speak  of  it  as  of  the  palladium 
of  your  political  safety  and  prosperity;  watching  for  its 
preservation  with  jealous  anxiety;  discountenancing  what- 
ever may  suggest  even  a  suspicion  that  it  can  in  any  event 
be  abandoned;  and  indignantly  frowning  upon  the  first 
dawning  of  every  attempt  to  alienate  any  portion  of  our 
country  from  the  rest,  or  to  enfeeble  the  sacred  ties  which 
now  link  together  the  various  parts. 

For  this  you  have  every  inducement  of  sympathy  and 
interest.  Citizens,  by  birth  or  choice,  of  a  common  coun- 
try, that  country  has  a  right  to  concentrate  your  affections. 
The  name  of  American,  which  belongs  to  you  in  your  na- 
tional capacity,  must  always  exalt  the  just  pride  of  patriot- 
ism more  than  any  appellation  derived  from  local  discrimi- 
nations. With  slight  shades  of  difference,  you  have  the 
same  religion,  manners,  habits,  and  political  principles. 
You  have  in  a  common  cause  fought  and  triumphed  to- 
gether; the  independence  and  liberty  you  possess  are  the 
work  of  joint  counsels,  and  joint  efforts  of  common  dangers, 
sufferings,  and  successes. 

But  these  considerations,  however  powerfully  they  ad- 
dress themselves  to  your  sensibility,  are  greatly  outweighed 
by  those  which  apply  more  immediately  to  your  interest. 
Here  every  portion  of  our  country  finds  the  most  command- 
ing motives  for  carefully  guarding  and  preserving  the  un- 
ion of  the  whole. 


296  HOW  TO  SPEAK  IN  PUBLIC 

The  North,  in  an  unrestrained  intercourse  with  the  South, 
protected  by  the  equal  laws  of  a  common  government,  finds 
in  the  productions  of  the  latter  great  additional  resources 
of  maritime  and  commercial  enterprise  and  precious  mate- 
rials of  manufacturing  industry.  The  South,  in  the  same 
intercourse,  benefiting  by  the  agency  of  the  North,  sees  its 
agriculture  grow  and  its  commerce  expand.  Turning  partly 
into  its  own  channels  the  seamen  of  the  North,  it  finds  its 
particular  navigation  invigorated ;  and,  while  it  contributes, 
in  different  ways,  to  nourish  and  increase  the  general  mass 
of  the  national  navigation,  it  looks  forward  to  the  protection 
of  a  maritime  strength,  to  which  itself  is  unequally  adapted. 
The  East,  in  a  like  intercourse  with  the  West,  already  finds, 
and,  in  the  progressive  improvement  of  interior  communica- 
tions by  land  and  water,  will  more  and  more  find  a  valuable 
vent  for  the  commodities  which  it  brings  from  abroad,  or 
manufactures  at  home.  The  West  derives  from  the  East 
supplies  requisite  to  its  growth  and  comfort,  and,  what  is 
perhaps  of  still  greater  consequence,  it  must  of  necessity 
owe  the  secure  enjoyment  of  indispensable  outlets  for  its 
own  productions  to  the  weight,  influence,  and  the  future 
maritime  strength  of  the  Atlantic  side  of  the  Union,  di- 
rected by  an  indissoluble  community  of  interest  as  one 
nation.  Any  other  tenure  by  which  the  West  can  hold 
this  essential  advantage,  whether  derived  from  its  own 
separate  strength,  or  from  an  apostate  and  unnatural  con- 
nection with  any  foreign  power,  must  be  intrinsically  pre- 
carious. 

While,  then,  every  part  of  our  country  thus  feels  an 
immediate  and  particular  interest  in  union,  all  the  parts 
combined  cannot  fail  to  find  in  the  united  mass  of  means 
and  efforts  greater  strength,  greater  resources,  proportion- 


SELECTIONS  FOR  PRACTISE  297 

ably  greater  security  from  external  danger,  a  less  frequent 
interruption  of  their  peace  by  foreign  nations;  and,  what 
is  of  inestimable  value,  they  must  derive  from  union  an 
exemption  from  those  broils  and  wars  between  themselves, 
which  so  frequently  afflict  neighboring  countries  not  tied 
together  by  the  same  governments,  which  their  own  rival 
ships  alone  would  be  sufficient  to  produce,  but  which  op- 
posite foreign  alliances,  attachments,  and  intrigues  would 
stimulate  and  imbitter.  Hence,  likewise,  they  will  avoid 
the  necessity  of  those  overgrown  military  establishments 
which,  under  any  form  of  government,  are  inauspicious  to 
liberty,  and  which  are  to  be  regarded  as  particularly  hos- 
tile to  republican  liberty.  In  this  sense  it  is  that  your 
union  ought  to  be  considered  as  a  main  prop  of  your  lib- 
erty, and  that  the  love  of  the  one  ought  to  endear  to  you 
the  preservation  of  the  other. 

These  considerations  speak  a  persuasive  language  to 
every  reflecting  and  virtuous  mind,  and  exhibit  the  contin- 
uance of  the  Union  as  a  primary  object  of  patriotic  de- 
sire. Is  there  a  doubt  whether  a  common  government  can 
embrace  so  large  a  sphere?  Let  experience  solve  it.  To 
listen  to  mere  speculation  in  such  a  case  were  criminal.. 
We  are  authorized  to  hope  that  a  proper  organization  of 
the  whole  with  the  auxiliary  agency  of  governments  for  the 
respective  subdivisions,  will  afford  a  happy  issue  to  the  ex-, 
periment.  It  is  well  worth  a  fair  and  full  experiment. 
With  such  powerful  and  obvious  motives  to  union,  affect- 
ing all  parts  of  our  country,  while  experience  shall  not 
have  demonstrated  its  impracticability,  there  will  always 
be  reason  to  distrust  the  patriotism  of  those  who  in  any 
quarter  may  endeavor  to  weaken  its  bands. 

In  contemplating  the  causes  which  may  disturb  our  Un- 


298  HOW  TO  SPEAK  IN  PUBLIC 

ion,  it  occurs  as  matter  of  serious  concern  that  any  ground 
should  have  been  furnished  for  characterizing  parties  by 
geographical  discriminations,  Northern  and  Southern,  At- 
lantic and  Western;  whence  designing  men  may  endeavor 
to  excite  a  belief  that  there  is  a  real  difference  of  local  inter- 
ests and  views.  One  of  the  expedients  of  party  to  acquire 
influence  within  particular  districts  is  to  misrepresent  the 
opinions  and  aims  of  other  districts.  You  can  not  shield 
yourselves  too  much  against  the  jealousies  and  heartburn- 
ings which  spring  from  these  misrepresentations ;  they  tend 
to  render  alien  to  each  other  those  who  ought  to  be  bound 
together  by  fraternal  affection.  The  inhabitants  of  our 
Western  country  have  lately  had  a  useful  lesson  on  this 
head;  they  have  seen,  in  the  negotiation  by  the  Executive, 
and  in  the  unanimous  ratification  by  the  Senate,  of  the 
treaty  with  Spain,  and  in  the  universal  satisfaction  at  that 
event,  throughout  the  United  States,  a  decisive  proof  how 
unfounded  were  the  suspicions  propagated  among  them  of  a 
policy  in  the  general  government  and  in  the  Atlantic  States 
unfriendly  to  their  interests  in  regard  to  the  Mississippi ; 
they  have  been  witnesses  to  the  formation  of  two  treaties— 
that  with  Great  Britain,  and  that  with  Spain — which  secure 
to  them  everything  they  could  desire,  in  respect  to  our  for- 
eign relations,  toward  confirming  their  prosperity.  Will  it 
not  be  their  wisdom  to  rely  for  the  preservation  of  these 
advantages  on  the  Union  by  which  they  were  procured? 
Will  they  not  henceforth  be  deaf  to  those  advisers,  if  such 
there  are,  who  would  sever  them  from  their  brethren  and 
connect  them  with  aliens? 

To  the  efficacy  and  permanency  of  your  Union,  a  govern* 
ment  for  the  whole  is  indispensable.  No  alliance,  however 
strict,  between  the  parts  can  be  an  adequate  substitute ;  they 


SELECTIONS  FOR  PRACTISE  299 

must  inevitably  experience  the  infractions  and  interruptions 
which  all  alliances  in  all  times  have  experienced.  Sensible 
of  this  momentous  truth,  you  have  improved  upon  your  first 
essay,  by  the  adoption  of  a  constitution  of  government  bet- 
ter calculated  than  your  former  for  an  intimate  union,  and 
for  the  efficacious  management  of  your  common  concerns. 
This  government,  the  offspring  of  our  own  choice,  uninflu- 
enced and  unawed,  adopted  upon  full  investigation  and  ma- 
ture deliberation,  completely  free  in  its  principles,  in  the 
distribution  'of  its  powers,  uniting  security  with  energy,  and 
containing  within  itself  a  provision  for  its  own  amendment, 
has  a  just  claim  to  your  confidence  and  your  support.  Re- 
spect for  its  authority,  compliance  with  its  laws,  acqui- 
escence in  its  measures,  are  duties  enjoined  by  the  funda- 
mental maxims  of  true  liberty.  The  basis  of  our  political 
systems  is  the  right  of  the  people  to  make  and  to  alter  their 
constitutions  of  government.  But  the  Constitution  which  at 
any  time  exists,  till  changed  by  an  explicit  and  authentic  act 
of  the  whole  people,  is  sacredly  obligatory  upon  all.  The 
very  idea  of  the  power  and  the  right  of  the  people  to  estab- 
lish government  presupposes  the  duty  of  every  individual 
to  obey  the  established  government. 

All  obstructions  to  the  execution  of  the  laws,  all  com- 
binations and  associations,  under  whatever  plausible  char- 
acter, with  the  real  design  to  direct,  control,  counteract,  or 
awe  the  regular  deliberation  and  action  of  the  constituted 
authorities,  are  destructive  of  this  fundamental  principle, 
and  of  fatal  tendency.  They  serve  to  organize  faction;  to 
give  it  an  artificial  and  extraordinary  force;  to  put  in  the 
place  of  the  delegated  will  of  the  nation  the  will  of  a  party, 
often  a  small  but  artful  and  enterprising  minority  of  the 
community;  and,  according  to  the  alternate  triumphs  of 


300  HOW  TO  SPEAK  IN  PUBLIC 

different  parties,  to  make  the  public  administration  the 
mirror  of  the  ill-concerted  and  incongruous  projects  of 
faction,  rather  than  the  organ  of  consistent  and  wholesome 
plans  digested  by  common  counsels  and  modified  by  mutual 
interests. 

However  combinations  or  associations  of  the  above  de- 
scription may  now  and  then  answer  popular  ends,  they  are 
likely,  in  the  course  of  time  and  things,  to  become  potent 
engines  by  which  cunning,  ambitious,  and  unprincipled 
men  will  be  enabled  to  subvert  the  power  of  the  people  and 
to  usurp  for  themselves  the  reins  of  government,  destroying 
afterward  the  very  engines  which  have  lifted  them  to  unjust 
dominion. 

Toward  the  preservation  of  your  government,  and  the 
permanency  of  your  present  happy  state,  it  is  requisite,  not 
only  that  you  steadily  discountenance  irregular  oppositions 
to  its  acknowledged  authority,  but  also  that  you  resist  with 
care  the  spirit  of  innovation  upon  its  principles,  however 
specious  the  pretexts.  One  method  of  assault  may  be  to 
effect,  in  the  forms  of  the  Constitution,  alterations  which 
will  impair  the  energy  of  the  system,  and  thus  to  undermine 
what  can  not  be  directly  overthrown.  In  all  the  changes  to 
which  you  may  be  invited,  remember  that  time  and  habit 
are  at  least  as  necessary  to  fix  the  true  character  of  govern- 
ments as  of  other  human  institutions ;  that  experience  is  the 
surest  standard  by  which  to  test  the  real  tendency  of  the 
existing  constitution  of  a  country;  that  facility  in  changes, 
upon  the  credit  of  mere  hypothesis  and  opinion,  exposes  to 
perpetual  change,  from  the  endless  variety  of  hypothesis 
and  opinion ;  and  remember,  especially,  that  for  the  efficient 
management  of  your  common  interests,  in  a  country  so  ex- 
tensive as  ours,  a  government  of  as  much  vigor  as  is  con- 


SELECTIONS  FOR  PRACTISE  301 

sistent  with  the  perfect  security  of  liberty  is  indispensable. 
Liberty  itself  will  find  in  such  a  government,  with  powers 
properly  distributed  and  adjusted,  its  surest  guardian.  It 
is,  indeed,  little  else  than  a  name,  where  the  government  is 
too  feeble  to  withstand  the  enterprises  of  faction,  to  confine 
each  member  of  the  society  within  the  limits  prescribed  by 
the  laws,  and  to  maintain  all  in  the  secure  and  tranquil 
enjoyment  of  the  rights  of  person  and  property. 

I  have  already  intimated  to  you  the  danger  of  parties  in 
the  State,  with  particular  reference  to  the  founding  of  them 
on  geographical  discriminations.  Let  me  now  take  a  more 
comprehensive  view,  and  warn  you  in  the  most  solemn 
manner  against  the  baneful  effects  of  the  spirit  of  party 
generally. 

This  spirit,  unfortunately,  is  inseparable  from  our  na- 
ture, having  its  root  in  the  strongest  passions  of  the  human 
mind.  It  exists  under  different  shapes  in  all  governments, 
more  or  less  stifled,  controlled,  or  repressed;  but,  in  those 
of  the  popular  form,  it  is  seen  in  its  greatest  rankness,  and 
is  truly  their  worst  enemy. 

The  alternate  domination  of  one  faction  over  another, 
sharpened  by  the  spirit  of  revenge,  natural  to  party  dissen- 
sion, which  in  different  ages  and  countries  has  perpetrated 
the  most  horrid  enormities,  is  itself  a  frightful  despotism. 
But  this  leads  at  length  to  a  more  formal  and  permanent 
despotism.  The  disorders  and  miseries  which  result  grad- 
ually incline  the  minds  of  men  to  seek  security  and  repose 
in  the  absolute  power  of  an  individual ;  and  sooner  or  later 
the  chief  of  some  prevailing  faction,  more  able  or  more  for- 
tunate than  his  competitors,  turns  this  disposition  to  the 
purpose  of  his  own  elevation,  on  the  ruins  of  public  liberty. 

Without  looking  forward  to  an  extremity  of  this  kind 


302  HOW  TO  SPEAK  IN  PUBLIC 

(which,  nevertheless,  ought  not  to  be  entirely  out  of  sight), 
the  common  and  continual  mischiefs  of  the  spirit  of  party 
are  sufficient  to  make  it  the  interest  and  duty  of  a  wise 
people  to  discourage  and  restrain  it. 

It  serves  always  to  distract  the  public  councils  and  en- 
feeble the  public  administration.  It  agitates  the  community 
with  ill-founded  jealousies  and  false  alarms,  kindles  the  ani- 
mosity of  one  part  against  another,  foments  occasionally  riot 
and  insurrection.  It  opens  the  door  to  foreign  influence  and 
corruption,  which  finds  a  facilitated  access  to  the  govern- 
ment itself  through  the  channels  of  party  passions.  Thus 
the  policy  and  the  will  of  one  country  are  subjected  to  the 
policy  and  will  of  another. 

There  is  an  opinion  that  parties  in  free  countries  are 
useful  checks  upon  the  administration  of  the  government 
and  serve  to  keep  alive  the  spirit  of  liberty.  This  within 
certain  limits  is  probably  true;  and  in  governments  of  a 
monarchical  cast,  patriotism  may  look  with  indulgence,  if 
not  with  favor,  upon  the  spirit  of  party.  But  in  those  of 
the  popular  character,  in  governments  purely  elective,  it  is 
a  spirit  not  to  be  encouraged.  From  their  natural  tendency, 
it  is  certain  there  will  always  be  enough  of  that  spirit  for 
every  salutary  purpose.  And  there  being  constant  danger 
of  excess,  the  effort  ought  to  be  by  force  of  public  opinion, 
to  mitigate  and  assuage  it.  A  fire  not  to  be  quenched,  it 
demands  a  uniform  vigilance  to  prevent  its  bursting  into  a 
flame,  lest,  instead  of  warming,  it  should  consume. 

It  is  important,  likewise,  that  the  habits  of  thinking  in  a 
free  country  should  inspire  caution  in  those  intrusted  with 
its  administration,  to  confine  themselves  within  their  respec- 
tive constitutional  spheres,  avoiding  in  the  exercise  of  the 
powers  of  one  department  to  encroach  upon  another.  The 


SELECTIONS  FOR  PRACTISE  303 

spirit  of  encroachment  tends  to  consolidate  the  powers  of 
all  the  departments  in  one,  and  thus  to  create,  whatever 
the  form  of  government,  a  real  despotism.  A  just  estimate 
of  that  love  of  power,  and  proneness  to  abuse  it,  which  pre- 
dominates in  the  human  heart,  is  sufficient  to  satisfy  us  of 
the  truth  of  this  position.  The  necessity  of  reciprocal 
checks  in  the  exercise  of  political  power,  by  dividing  and 
distributing  it  into  different  depositaries,  and  constituting 
each  the  guardian  of  the  public  weal  against  invasions  by 
the  others,  has  been  evinced  by  experiments  ancient  and 
modern;  some  of  them  in  our  country  and  under  our  own 
eyes.  To  preserve  them  must  be  as  necessary  as  to  insti- 
tute them.  If,  in  the  opinion  of  the  people,  the  distribu- 
tion or  modification  of  the  constitutional  powers  be  in  any 
particular  wrong,  let  it  be  corrected  by  an  amendment  in 
the  way  which  the  Constitution  designates.  But  let  there 
be  no  change  by  usurpation;  for  tho  this,  in  one  in- 
stance, may  be  the  instrument  of  good,  it  is  the  customary 
weapon  by  which  free  governments  are  destroyed.  The 
precedent  must  always  greatly  overbalance  in  permanent 
evil  any  partial  or  transient  benefit  which  the  use  can  at 
any  time  yield. 

Of  all  the  dispositions  and  habits  which  lead  to  political 
prosperity,  religion  and  morality  are  indispensable  supports. 
In  vain  would  that  man  claim  the  tribute  of  patriotism,  who 
should  labor  to  subvert  these  great  pillars  of  human  happi- 
ness, these  firmest  props  of  the  duties  of  men  and  citizens. 
The  mere  politician,  equally  with  the  pious  man,  ought  to 
respect  and  to  cherish  them.  A  volume  could  not  trace  all 
their  connections  with  private  and  public  felicity.  Let  it 
simply  be  asked:  Where  is  the  security  for  property,  for 
reputation,  for  life,  if  the  sense  of  religious  obligation  de- 


304  HOW  TO  SPEAK  IN  PUBLIC 

sert  the  oaths  which  are  the  instruments  of  investigation 
in  courts  of  justice?  And  let  us  with  caution  indulge  the 
supposition  that  morality  can  be  maintained  without  re- 
ligion. Whatever  may  be  conceded  to  the  influence  of  re- 
fined education  on  minds  of  peculiar  structure,  reason  and 
experience  both  forbid  us  to  expect  that  national  morality 
can  prevail  in  exclusion  of  religious  principle. 

It  is  substantially  true  that  virtue  or  morality  is  a  nec- 
essary spring  of  popular  government.  The  rule,  indeed, 
extends  with  more  or  less  force  to  every  species  of  free 
government.  Who  that  is  a  sincere  friend  to  it  can  look 
with  indifference  upon  attempts  to  shake  the  foundation  of 
the  fabric? 

Promote,  then,  as  an  object  of  primary  importance,  in- 
stitutions for  the  general  diffusion  of  knowledge.    In  pro- 
portion as  the  structure  of  a  government  gives  force  to, 
public  opinion,  it  is  essential  that  public  opinion  should  oe 
enlightened. 

As  a  very  important  source  of  strength  and  security, 
cherish  public  credit.  One  method  of  preserving  it  is  to 
use  it  as  sparingly  as  possible,  avoiding  occasions  of  expense 
by  cultivating  peace,  but  remembering  also  that  timely 
disbursements  to  prepare  for  danger  frequently  prevent 
much  greater  disbursements  to  repel  it,  avoiding  likewise 
the  accumulation  of  debt,  not  only  by  shunning  occasions 
of  expense,  but  by  vigorous  exertion  in  time  of  peace  to 
discharge  the  debts  which  unavoidable  wars  may  have  oc- 
casioned, not  ungenerously  throwing  upon  posterity  the 
burden  which  we  ourselves  ought  to  bear.  The  execution  of 
these  maxims  belongs  to  your  representatives,  but  it  is  nec- 
essary that  public  opinion  should  cooperate.  To  facilitate 
to  them  the  performance  of  their  duty,  it  is  essential  that 


SELECTIONS  FOR  PRACTISE  305 

you  should  practically  bear  in  mind  that  toward  the  pay- 
ment of  debts  there  must  be  revenue ;  that  to  have  revenue 
there  must  be  taxes ;  that  no  taxes  can  be  devised  which  are 
not  more  or  less  inconvenient  and  unpleasant;  that  the 
intrinsic  embarrassment,  inseparable  from  the  selection  of 
the  proper  objects  (which  is  always  a  choice  of  difficulties), 
ought  to  be  a  decisive  motive  for  a  candid  construction  of 
the  conduct  of  the  government  in  making  it,  and  for  a  spirit 
of  acquiescence  in  the  measures  for  obtaining  revenue, 
which  the  public  exigencies  may  at  any  time  dictate. 

Observe  good  faith  and  justice  toward  all  nations;  cul- 
tivate peace  and  harmony  with  all.  Religion  and  morality 
enjoin  this  conduct ;  and  can  it  be  that  good  policy  does  not 
equally  enjoin  it  ?  It  will  be  worthy  of  a  free,  enlightened, 
and,  at  no  distant  period,  a  great  nation,  to  give  to  man- 
kind the  magnanimous  and  too  novel  example  of  a  people 
always  guided  by  an  exalted  justice  and  benevolence.  Who 
can  doubt  that,  in  the  course  of  time  and  things,  the  fruits 
of  such  a  plan  would  richly  repay  any  temporary  advan- 
tages which  might  be  lost  by  a  steady  adherence  to  it  ?  Can 
it  be  that  Providence  has  not  connected  the  permanent 
felicity  of  a  nation  with  its  virtue?  The  experiment,  at 
least,  is  recommended  by  every  sentiment  which  ennobles 
human  nature.  Alas !  is  it  rendered  impossible  by  its  vices  ? 

In  the  execution  of  such  a  plan,  nothing  is  more  essen- 
tial than  that  permanent,  inveterate  antipathies  against  par- 
ticular nations,  and  passionate  attachments  for  others,  should 
be  excluded ;  and  that,  in  place  of  them,  just  and  amicable 
feelings  toward  all  should  be  cultivated.  The  nation  which 
indulges  toward  another  a  habitual  hatred  or  a  habitual 
fondness  is  in  some  degree  a  slave.  It  is  a  slave  to  its 
animosity  or  to  its  affection,  either  of  which  is  sufficient  to 


306  HOW  TO  SPEAK  IN  PUBLIC 

lead  it  astray  from  its  duty  and  its  interest.  Antipathy  in 
one  nation  against  another  disposes  each  more  readily  to 
offer  insult  and  injury,  to  lay  hold  of  slight  causes  of 
umbrage,  and  to  be  haughty  and  intractable,  when  acci- 
dental or  trifling  occasions  of  dispute  occur.  Hence,  fre- 
quent collisions,  obstinate,  envenomed,  and  bloody  contests. 
The  nation,  prompted  by  ill  will  and  resentment,  sometimes 
impels  to  wrar  the  government,  contrary  to  the  best  cal- 
culations of  policy.  The  government  sometimes  participates 
in  the  national  propensity,  and  adopts  .  through  passion 
what  reason  would  reject;  at  other  times  it  makes  the  ani- 
mosity of  the  nation  subservient  to  projects  of  hostility 
instigated  by  pride,  ambition,  and  other  sinister  and  per- 
nicious motives.  The  peace  often,  sometimes  perhaps  the 
liberty,  of  nations,  has  been  the  victim. 

So,  likewise,  a  passionate  attachment  of  one  nation  for 
another  produces  a  variety  of  evils.  Sympathy  for  the 
favorite  nation,  facilitating  the  illusion  of  an  imaginary 
common  interest  in  cases  where  no  real  common  interest 
exists,  and  infusing  into  one  the  enmities  of  the  other, 
betrays  the  former  into  a  participation  in  the  quarrels  and 
wars  of  the  latter  without  adequate  inducement  or  justifica- 
tion. It  leads  also  to  concessions  to  the  favorite  nation  of 
privileges  denied  to  others,  which  is  apt  doubly  to  injure 
the  nation  making  concessions — by  unnecessarily  parting 
with  what  ought  to  have  been  retained,  and  by  exciting 
jealousy,  ill  will,  and  a  disposition  to  retaliate,  in  the  parties 
from  whom  equal  privileges  are  withheld.  And  it  gives 
to  ambitious,  corrupted,  or  deluded  citizens  (who  devote 
themselves  to  the  favorite  nation)  facility  to  betray  or 
sacrifice  the  interests  of  their  own  country,  without  odium, 
sometimes  even  with  popularity,  gilding,  with  the  appear- 


SELECTIONS  FOR  PRACTISE  307 

ance  of  a  virtuous  sense  of  obligation,  a  commendable 
deference  for  public  opinion,  or  a  laudable  zeal  for  public 
good,  the  base  or  foolish  compliances  of  ambition,  corrup- 
tion, or  infatuation. 

As  avenues  to  foreign  influence  in  innumerable  ways, 
such  attachments  are  particularly  alarming  to  the  truly 
enlightened  and  independent  patriot.  How  many  oppor- 
tunities do  they  afford  to  tamper  with  domestic  factions, 
to  practise  the  arts  of  seduction,  to  mislead  public  opinion, 
to  influence  or  awe  the  public  councils?  Such  an  attach- 
ment of  a  small  or  weak  toward  a  great  and  powerful  nation 
dooms  the  former  to  be  the  satellite  of  the  latter. 

Against  the  insidious  wiles  of  foreign  influence  (I  con- 
jure you  to  believe  me,  fellow  citizens)  the  jealousy  of  a 
free  people  ought  to  be  constantly  awake,  since  history  and 
experience  prove  that  foreign  influence  is  one  of  the  most 
baneful  foes  of  republican  government.  But  that  jealousy 
to  be  use*ful  must  be  impartial ;  else  it  becomes  the  instru- 
ment of  the  very  influence  to  be  avoided,  instead  of  a  de- 
fense against  it.  Excessive  partiality  for  one  foreign  nation 
and  excessive  dislike  of  another  cause  those  whom  they 
actuate  to  see  danger  only  on  one  side,  and  serve  to  veil 
and  even  second  the  arts  of  influence  on  the  other.  Real 
patriots  who  may  resist  the  intrigues  of  the  favorite  are 
liable  to  become  suspected  and  odious,  while  its  tools  and 
dupes  usurp  the  applause  and  confidence  of  the  people,  to 
surrender  their  interests. 

The  great  rule  of  conduct  for  us  in  regard  to  foreign 
nations  is  in  extending  our  commercial  relations,  to  have 
with  them  as  little  political  connection  as  possible.  So  far 
as  we  have  already  formed  engagements,  let  them  be  ful- 
filled with  perfect  good  faith.  Here  let  us  stop. 


308  HOW  TO  SPEAK  IN  PUBLIC 

Europe  has  a  set  of  primary  interests  which  to  us  have 
none,  or  a  very  remote  relation.  Hence  she  must  be  en- 
gaged in  frequent  controversies,  the  causes  of  which  are 
essentially  foreign  to  our  concerns.  Hence,  therefore,  it 
must  be  unwise  in  us  to  implicate  ourselves  by  artificial  ties 
in  the  ordinary  vicissitudes  of  her  politics,  or  the  ordinary 
combinations  and  collisions  of  her  friendships  or  enmities. 

Our  detached  and  distant  situation  invites  and  enables 
us  to  pursue  a  different  course.  If  we  remain  one  people 
under  an  efficient  government,  the  period  is  not  far  off  when 
we  may  defy  material  injury,  from  external  annoyance; 
when  we  may  take  such  an  attitude  as  will  cause  the  neu- 
trality we  may  at  any  time  resolve  upon  to  be  scrupulously 
respected ;  when  belligerent  nations,  under  the  impossibility 
of  making  acquisitions  upon  us,  will  not  lightly  hazard  the 
giving  us  provocation;  when  we  may  choose  peace  or  war, 
as  our  interest,  guided  by  justice,  shall  counsel. 

Why  forego  the  advantages  of  so  peculiar  a  situation? 
Why  quit  our  own  to  stand  upon  foreign  ground?  Why, 
by  interweaving  our  destiny  with  that  of  any  part  of 
Europe,  entangle  our  peace  and  prosperity  in  the  toils  of 
European  ambition,  rivalship,  interest,  humor  or  caprice? 

It  is  our  true  policy  to  steer  clear  of  permanent  alliances 
with  any  portion  of  the  foreign  world — so  far,  I  mean,  as  we 
are  now  at  liberty  to  do  it;  for  let  me  not  be  understood 
as  capable  of  patronizing  infidelity  to  existing  engagements. 
I  hold  the  maxim  no  less  applicable  to  public  than  to  private 
affairs,  that  honesty  is  always  the  best  policy.  I  repeat 
it,  therefore,  let  those  engagements  be  observed  in  their 
genuine  sense.  But,  in  my  opinion,  it  is  unnecessary  and 
would  be  unwise  to  extend  them. 

Taking  care  always  to  keep  ourselves  by  suitable  estab- 


SELECTIONS  FOR  PRACTISE  309 

lishments  on  a  respectable  defensive  posture,  we  may  safely 
trust  to  temporary  alliances  for  extraordinary  emergencies. 

Harmony,  liberal  intercourse  with  all  nations,  are  recom- 
mended by  policy,  humanity,  and  interest.  But  even  our 
commercial  policy  should  hold  an  equal  and  impartial  hand ; 
neither  seeking  nor  granting  exclusive  favors  or  prefer- 
ences; consulting  the  natural  course  of  things;  diffusing 
and  diversifying  by  gentle  means  the  streams  of  commerce, 
but  forcing  nothing;  establishing  (with  powers  so  disposed, 
in  order  to  give  trade  a  stable  course,  to  define  the  rights 
of  our  merchants,  and  to  enable  the  government  to  support 
them)  conventional  rules  of  intercourse,  the  best  that 
present  circumstances  and  mutual  opinion  will  permit,  but 
temporary,  and  liable  to  be  from  time  to  time  abandoned 
or  varied,  as  experience  and  circumstances  shall  dictate; 
constantly  keeping  in  view  that  it  is  folly  in  one  nation  to 
look  for  disinterested  favors  from  another ;  that  it  must  pay 
with  a  portion  of  its  independence  for  whatever  it  may 
accept  under  that  character;  that,  by  such  acceptance,  it 
may  place  itself  in  the  condition  of  having  given  equivalents 
for  nominal  favors,  and  yet  of  being  reproached  with  in- 
gratitude for  not  giving  more.  There  can  be  no  greater 
error  than  to  expect  or  calculate  upon  real  favors  from 
nation  to  nation.  It  is  an  illusion  which  experience  must 
cure,  which  a  just  pride  ought  to  discard. 

In  offering  to  you,  my  countrymen,  these  counsels  of  an 
old  and  affectionate  friend,  I  dare  not  hope  they  will  make 
the  strong  and  lasting  impression  I  could  wish;  that  they 
will  control  the  usual  current  of  the  passions,  or  prevent 
our  nation  from  running  the  course  which  has  hitherto 
marked  the  destiny  of  nations.  But,  if  I  may  even  flatter 
myself  that  they  may  be  productive  of  some  partial  benefit, 


310  HOW  TO  SPEAK  IN  PUBLIC 

some  occasional  good;  that  they  may  now  and  then  recur 
to  moderate  the  fury  of  party  spirit,  to  warn  against  the 
mischiefs  of  foreign  intrigue,  to  guard  against  the  impos- 
tures of  pretended  patriotism; — this  hope  will  be  a  full 
recompense  for  the  solicitude  for  your  welfare,  by  which 
they  have  been  dictated. 

How  far  in  the  discharge  of  my  official  duties  I  have  been 
guided  by  the  principles  which  have  been  delineated,  the 
public  records  and  other  evidences  of  my  conduct  must  wit- 
ness to  you  and  to  the  world.  To  myself,  the  assurance  of 
my  own  conscience  is  that  I  have  at  least  believed  myself 
to  be  guided  by  them. 

In  relation  to  the  still  subsisting  war  in  Europe,  my 
proclamation  of  the  twenty-second  of  April,  1793,  is  the 
index  of  my  plan.  Sanctioned  by  your  approving  voice, 
and  by  that  of  your  representatives  in  both  Houses  of  Con- 
gress, the  spirit  of  that  measure  has  continually  governed 
me,  uninfluenced  by  any  attempts  to  deter  or  divert  me 
from  it. 

After  deliberate  examination,  with  the  aid  of  the  best 
lights  I  could  obtain,  I  was  well  satisfied  that  our  country, 
under  all  the  circumstances  of  the  case,  had  a  right  to  take, 
and  was  bound  in  duty  and  interest  to  take,  a  neutral  posi- 
tion. Having  taken  it,  I  determined,  as  far  as  should  de- 
pend upon  me,  to  maintain  it,  with  moderation,  persever- 
ance, and  firmness. 

The  considerations  which  respect  the  right  to  hold  this 
conduct,  it  is  not  necessary  on  this  occasion  to  detail.  I  will 
only  observe  that,  according  to  my  understanding  of  the 
matter,  that  right,  so  far  from  being  denied  by  any  of  the 
belligerent  powers,  has  been  virtually  admitted  by  all. 

The  duty  of  holding  a  neutral  conduct  may  be  inferred, 


SELECTIONS  FOR  PRACTISE  311 

without  anything  more,  from  the  obligation  which  justice 
and  humanity  impose  on  every  nation,  in  cases  in  which  it 
is  free  to  act,  to  maintain  inviolate  the  relations  of  peace 
and  amity  toward  other  nations. 

The  inducements  of  interest  for  observing  that  conduct 
will  best  be  referred  to  your  own  reflections  and  experience. 
With  me  a  predominant  motive  has  been  to  endeavor  to 
gain  time  to  our  country  to  settle  and  mature  its  yet  recent 
institutions,  and  to  progress  without  interruption  to  that 
degree  of  strength  and  consistency  which  is  necessary  to 
give  it,  humanly  speaking,  the  command  of  its  own  fortunes. 

Tho,  in  reviewing  the  incidents  of  my  administration, 
I  am  unconscious  of  intentional  error,  I  am  nevertheless 
too  sensible  of  my  defects  not  to  think  it  probable  that  I 
may  have  committed  many  errors.  Whatever  they  may 
be,  I  fervently  beseech  the  Almighty  to  avert  or  mitigate 
the  evils  to  which  they  may  tend.  I  shall  also  carry  with 
me  the  hope  that  my  country  will  never  cease  to  view  them 
with  indulgence ;  and  that,  after  forty-five  years  of  my  life 
dedicated  to  its  service  with  an  upright  zeal,  the  faults  of 
incompetent  abilities  will  be  consigned  to  oblivion,  as  my- 
self must  soon  be  to  the  mansions  of  rest. 

Relying  on  its  kindness  in  this  as  in  other  things,  and 
actuated  by  that  fervent  love  toward  it,  which  is  so  natural 
to  a  man  who  views  in  it  the  native  soil  of  himself  and  his 
progenitors  for  several  generations,  I  anticipate  with  pleas- 
ing expectation  that  retreat  in  which  I  promise  myself  to 
realize,  without  alloy,  the  sweet  enjoyment  of  partaking, 
in  the  midst  of  my  fellow  citizens,  the  benign  influence  of 
good  laws  under  a  free  government,  the  ever-favorite  object 
of  my  heart,  and  the  happy  reward,  as  I  trust,  of  our 
mutual  cares,  labors,  and  dangers. 


312  HOW  TO  SPEAK  IN  PUBLIC 

ON  THE  POLITICAL  SITUATION 
BY  JOHN  JAMES  INGALLS 

MR.  PRESIDENT: — Two  portentous  perils  threaten  the 
safety,  if  they  do  not  endanger  the  existence  of  the  republic. 

The  first  of  these  is  ignorant,  debased,  degraded,  spurious, 
and  sophisticated  suffrage;  suffrage  contaminated  by  the 
feculent  sewage  of  decaying  nations;  suffrage  intimidated 
and  suppressed  in  the  South ;  suffrage  impure  and  corrupt, 
apathetic  and  indifferent,  in  the  great  cities  of  the  North, 
so  that  it  is  doubtful  whether  there  has  been  for  half  a 
century  a  presidential  election  in  this  country  that  ex- 
pressed the  deliberate  and  intelligent  judgment  of  the  whole 
body  of  the  American  people. 

In  a  newspaper  interview  a  few  months  ago,  in  which  I 
commented  upon  these  conditions  and  alluded  to  the  efforts 
of  the  bacilli  doctors  of  politics,  the  bacteriologists  of  our 
system,  who  endeavor  to  cure  the  ills  under  which  we  suffer 
by  their  hypodermic  injections  of  the  lymph  of  independent 
non-partizanship  and  the  Brown-Sequard  elixir  of  civil- 
service  reform,  I  said  that ' '  the  purification  of  politics ' '  by 
such  methods  as  these  was  an  ' '  iridescent  dream. ' '  Remem- 
bering the  cipher  dispatches  of  1877  and  the  attempted 
purchase  of  the  electoral  votes  of  many  Southern  States  in 
that  campaign,  the  forgery  of  the  Morey  letter  in  1880,  by 
which  Garfield  lost  the  votes  of  three  states  in  the  North, 
and  the  characterization  and  portraiture  of  Blaine  and 
Cleveland  and  Harrison  by  their  political  adversaries,  I 
added  that  "the  Golden  Rule  and  the  Decalog  had  no 
place  in  American  political  campaigns." 


SELECTIONS  FOR  PRACTISE  313 

It  seems  superfluous  to  explain,  Mr.  President,  that  in 
those  utterances  I  was  not  inculcating  a  doctrine,  but  de- 
scribing a  condition.  My  statement  was  a  statement  of  facts 
as  I  understood  them,  and  not  the  announcement  of  an 
article  of  faith.  But  many  reverend  and  eminent  divines, 
many  disinterested  editors,  many  ingenuous  orators,  per- 
verted those  utterances  into  the  personal  advocacy  of  im- 
purity in  politics. 

I  do  not  complain,  Mr.  President.  It  was,  as  the  world 
goes,  legitimate  political  warfare ;  but  it  was  an  illustration 
of  the  truth  that  there  ought  to  be  purification  in  our 
politics,  and  that  the  Golden  Rule  and  the  Decalog  ought 
to  have  a  place  in  political  campaigns.  "Do  unto  others 
as  ye  would  that  others  should  do  unto  you"  is  the  supreme 
injunction,  obligatory  upon  all.  ' '  If  thine  enemy  smite  thee 
upon  one  cheek  turn  to  him  the  other"  is  a  sublime  and 
lofty  precept.  But  I  take  this  occasion  to  observe  that  until 
it  is  more  generally  regarded  than  it  has  been  or  appears 
likely  to  be  in  the  immediate  future,  if  my  political  enemy 
smites  me  upon  one  cheek,  instead  of  turning  to  him  the 
other  I  shall  smite  him  under  the  butt  end  of  his  left  ear 
if  I  can.  If  this  be  political  immorality,  I  am  to  be  included 
among  the  unregenerated. 

The  election  bill  that  was  under  consideration  a  few  days 
ago  is  intended  to  deal  with  one  part  of  the  great  evil  to 
which  I  have  alluded,  but  it  is  an  imperfect,  a  partial,  and 
an  incomplete  remedy.  Violence  is  bad;  but  fraud  is  no 
better,  and  it  is  more  dangerous  because  it  is  more  insidious. 

Burke  said  in  one  of  those  immortal  orations  that  emptied 
the  House  of  Commons,  but  which  will  be  read  with  ad- 
miration so  long  as  the  English  tongue  shall  endure,  that 
when  the  laws  of  Great  Britain  were  not  strong  enough  to 


314  HOW  TO  SPEAK  IN  PUBLIC 

protect  the  humblest  Hindoo  upon  the  shores  of  the  Ganges 
the  nobleman  was  not  safe  in  his  castle  upon  the  banks  of 
the  Thames.  Sir,  that  lofty  sentence  is  pregnant  with  ad- 
monition for  us.  There  can  be  no  repose,  there  can  be  no 
stable  and  permanent  peace  in  this  country  under  this 
government  until-  it  is  just  as  safe  for  the  black  Republican 
to  vote  in  Mississippi  as  it  is  for  the  white  Democrat  to  vote 
in  Kansas. 

The  other  evil,  Mr.  President,  the  second  to  which  I  ad- 
verted as  threatening  the  safety  if  it  does  not  endanger  the 
existence  of  the  republic,  is  the  tyranny  of  combined,  con- 
centrated, centralized,  and  incorporated  capital.  And  the 
people  are  considering  this  great  problem  now.  The  con- 
science of  the  nation  is  shocked  at  the  injustice  of  modern 
society.  The  moral  sentiment  of  mankind  has  been  aroused 
at  the  unequal  distribution  of  wealth,  at  the  unequal  dif- 
fusion of  the  burdens,  the  benefits,  and  the  privileges  of 
society. 

At  the  beginning  of  our  second  century  the  American 
people  have  become  profoundly  conscious  that  the  ballot  is 
not  the  panacea  for  all  the  evils  that  afflict  humanity ;  that 
it  has  not  abolished  poverty  nor  prevented  injustice.  They 
have  discovered  that  political  equality  does  not  result  in 
social  fraternity ;  that  under  a  democracy  the  concentration 
of  greater  political  power  in  fewer  hands,  the  accumulation 
and  aggregation  of  greater  amounts  of  wealth  in  individuals, 
are  more  possible  than  under  a  monarchy ;  and  that  there  is 
a  tyranny  which  is  more  fatal  than  the  tyranny  of  kings. 

George  Washington,  the  first  President  of  the  Republic, 
at  the  close  of  his  life  in  1799  had  the  largest  private  for- 
tune in  the  United  States  of  America.  Much  of  this  came 
by  inheritance,  but  the  Father  of  his  Country,  in  addition 


SELECTIONS  FOR  PRACTISE  315 

to  his  other  virtues,  shining  and  illustrious,  was  a  very 
prudent,  sagacious,  thrifty,  and  forehanded  man.  He  knew 
a  good  thing  when  he  saw  it  a  great  way  off.  He  had  a  keen 
eye  for  the  main  chance.  As  a  surveyor  in  his  youth  he 
obtained  knowledge  that  enabled  him  to  make  exceedingly 
valuable  locations  upon  the  public  domain.  The  establish- 
ment of  the  national  capital  in  the  immediate  vicinity  of  his 
patrimonial  possessions  did  not  diminish  their  value.  He 
was  a  just  debtor,  but  he  was  an  exact  if  not  an  exacting 
creditor.  And  so  it  came  to  pass  that  when  he  died  he  was, 
to  use  the  expressive  phraseology  of  the  day,  the  richest 
man  in  the  country. 

At  this  time,  ninety  years  afterward,  it  is  not  without  in- 
terest to  know  that  the  entire  aggregate  and  sum  of  his 
earthly  possessions,  his  estate,  real,  personal,  and  mixed, 
Mount  Vernon  and  his  lands  along  the  Kanawha  and  the 
Ohio,  slaves,  securities,  all  of  his  belongings,  reached  the 
sum  total  of  between  $800,000  and  $900,000.  This  was  less 
than  a  century  ago,  and  it  is  within  bounds  to  say  that  at 
this  time  there  are  many  scores  of  men,  of  estates,  and  of 
corporations  in  this  country  whose  annual  income  exceed, 
and  there  has  been  one  man  whose  monthly  revenue  since 
that  period  exceeded,  the  entire  accumulations  of  the 
wealthiest  citizen  of  the  United  States  at  the  end  of  the  last 
century. 

At  that  period  the  social  condition  of  the  United  States 
was  one  of  practical  equality.  The  statistics  of  the  census 
of  1800  are  incomplete  and  fragmentary,  but  the  popula- 
tion of  the  Union  was  about  5,300,000,  and  the  estimated 
wealth  of  the  country  was  between  $3,000,000,000  and  $4,- 
000,000,000.  There  was  not  a  millionaire,  and  there  was 
not  a  tramp  nor  a  pauper,  so  far  as  we  know,  in  the  country, 


316  HOW  TO  SPEAK  IN  PUBLIC 

except  such  as  had  been  made  so  by  infirmity,  or  disease, 
or  inevitable  calamity.  A  multitude  of  small  farmers  con- 
tentedly tilled  the  soil.  Upon  the  coast  a  race  of  fishermen 
and  sailors,  owning  the  craft  that  they  sailed,  wrested  their 
substance  from  the  stormy  seas.  Labor  was  the  rule  and 
luxury  the  exception.  The  great  mass  of  the  people  lived 
upon  the  products  of  the  farms  that  they  cultivated.  They 
spun  and  wove  and  manufactured  their  clothing  from  flax 
and  from  wool.  Commerce  and  handicrafts  afforded  hon- 
orable competence.  The  prayer  of  Agur  was  apparently 
realized.  There  was  neither  poverty  nor  riches.  Wealth 
was  uniformly  diffused,  and  none  were  condemned  to  hope- 
less penury  and  dependence.  Less  than  four  per  cent,  of 
the  entire  population  lived  in  towns,  and  there  were  but 
four  cities  whose  population  exceeded  10,000  persons. 
Westward  to  the  Pacific  lay  the  fertile  solitudes  of  an  un- 
explored continent,  its  resources  undeveloped  and  unsus- 
pected. The  dreams  of  Utopia  seemed  about  to  be  fulfilled 
—the  wide,  the  universal  diffusion  of  civil,  political,  and 
personal  rights  among  the  great  body  of  the  people,  ac- 
companied by  efficient  and  vigorous  guaranties  for  the 
safety  of  life,  the  protection  of  property,  and  the  preserva- 
tion of  liberty. 

Since  that  time,  Mr.  President,  the  growth  in  wealth  and 
numbers  in  this  country  has  had  no  precedent  in  the  build- 
ing of  nations.  The  genius  of  the  people,  stimulated  to  pro- 
digious activity  by  freedom,  by  individualism,  by  universal 
education,  has  subjugated  the  desert  and  abolished  the  fron- 
tier. The  laboring  capacity  of  every  inhabitant  of  this 
planet  has  been  duplicated  by  machinery.  In  Massachusetts 
alone  we  are  told  that  its  engines  are  equivalent  to  the  labor 
of  one  hundred  million  men.  We  now  perform  one  third 


SELECTIONS  FOR  PRACTISE  317 

of  the  world's  mining,  one  quarter  of  its  manufacturing, 
one  fifth  of  its  farming,  and  we  possess  one  sixth  part  of  its 
entire  accumulated  wealth. 

The  Anglo-Saxon,  Mr.  President,  is  not  by  nature  or  in- 
stinct an  anarchist,  a  socialist,  a  nihilist,  or  a  communist. 
He  does  not  desire  the  repudiation  of  debts,  public  or 
private,  and  he  does  not  favor  the  forcible  redistribution  of 
property.  He  came  to  this  continent,  as  he  has  gone  every- 
where else  on  the  face  of  the  earth,  with  a  purpose.  The 
40,000  English  colonists  who  came  to  this  country  between 
1620  and  1650  formed  the  most  significant,  the  most  for- 
midable migration  that  has  ever  occurred  upon  this  globe 
since  time  began.  They  brought  with  them  social  and  politi- 
cal ideas,  novel  in  their  application,  of  inconceivable  energy 
and  power,  the  home,  the  family,  the  State,  individualism, 
the  right  of  personal  effort,  freedom  of  conscience,  an  in- 
domitable love  of  liberty  and  justice,  a  genius  for  self- 
government,  an  unrivaled  capacity  for  conquest,  but  pre- 
ferring charters  to  the  sword,  and  they  have  been  inexor- 
able and  relentless  in  the  accomplishment  of  their  designs. 
They  were  fatigued  with  caste  and  privilege  and  preroga- 
tive. They  were  tired  of  monarchs,  and  so,  upon  the  bleak 
and  inhospitable  shores  of  New  England  they  decreed  the 
sovereignty  of  the  people,  and  there  they  builded  ' '  a  church 
without  a  bishop,  and  a  state  without  a  king." 

The  result  of  that  experiment,  Mr.  President,  has  been 
ostensibly  successful.  Under  the  operation  of  those  great 
forces,  after  two  hundred  and  seventy  years,  this  country 
exhibits  a  peaceful  triumph  over  many  subdued  national- 
ities, through  a  government  automatic  in  its  functions  and 
sustained  by  no  power  but  the  invisible  majesty  of  law. 
With  swift  and  constant  communication  by  lines  of  steam 


318  HOW  TO  SPEAK  IN  PUBLIC 

transportation  by  land  and  lake  and  sea,  with  telegraphs 
extending  their  nervous  reticulations  from  State  to  State, 
the  remotest  members  of  this  gigantic  republic  are  animated 
by  a  vitality  as  vigorous  as  that  which  throbs  at  its  mighty 
heart,  and  it  is  through  the  quickened  intelligence  that  has 
been  communicated  by  those  ideas  that  these  conditions, 
which  have  been  fatal  to  other  nations,  have  become  the 
pillars  of  our  strength  and  the  bulwarks  of  our  safety. 

Mr.  President,  if  time  and  space  signified  now  what  they 
did  when  independence  was  declared,  the  United  States 
could  not  exist  under  one  government.  It  would  not  be 
possible  to  secure  unity  of  purpose  or  identity  of  interest 
between  communities  separated  by  such  barriers  and  ob- 
stacles as  Maine  and  California.  But  time  and  distance  are 
relative  terms,  and,  under  the  operations  of  these  forces, 
this  continent  has  dwindled  to  a  span.  It  is  not  as  far  from 
Boston  to  San  Francisco  to-day  as  it  was  from  Boston  to 
Baltimore  in  1791 ;  and  as  the  world  has  shrunk,  life  has 
expanded.  For  all  the  purposes  for  which  existence  is 
valuable  in  this  world — for  comfort,  for  convenience,  for 
opportunity,  for  intelligence,  for  power  of  locomotion,  and 
superiority  to  the  accidents  and  the  fatalities  of  nature — 
the  fewest  in  years  among  us,  Mr.  President,  has  lived 
longer  and  has  lived  more  worthily  than  Methuselah  in  all 
his  stagnant  centuries. 

When  the  Atlantic  cable  was  completed,  it  was  not  merely 
that  a  wire,  finer  by  comparison  than  the  gossamer  of  morn- 
ing, had  sunk  to  its  path  along  the  peaks  and  the  plateaus 
of  the  deep,  but  the  earth  instantaneously  grew  smaller  by 
the  breadth  of  the  Atlantic.  A  new  volume  in  the  history 
of  the  world  was  opened.  The  to-morrow  of  Europe  flashed 
upon  the  yesterday  of  America.  Time,  up  to  the  period 


SELECTIONS  FOR  PRACTISE  319 

when  this  experiment  commenced  on  this  continent,  yielded 
its  treasures  grudgingly  and  with  reluctance.  The  centuries 
crept  from  improvement  to  improvement  with  tardy  and 
sluggish  steps,  as  if  nature  were  unwilling  to  acknowledge 
the  mastery  of  man.  The  great  inventions  of  glass,  of  gun- 
powder, of  printing,  and  the  mariner's  compass  consumed 
a  thousand  years,  but  as  the  great  experiment  upon  this 
continent  has  proceeded,  the  ancient  law  of  progress  has 
been  disregarded,  and  the  mind  is  bewildered  by  the  stu- 
pendous results  of  its  marvelous  achievements. 

The  application  of  steam  to  locomotion  on  land  and  sea, 
the  cotton-gin,  electric  illumination  and  telegraphy,  the 
cylinder  printing-press,  the  sewing-machine,  the  photo- 
graphic art,  tubular  and  suspension  bridges,  the  telephone, 
the  spectroscope,  and  the  myriad  forms  of  new  applications 
of  science  to  health  and  domestic  comfort,  to  the  arts  of 
peace  and  war,  have  alone  rendered  democracy  possible. 
The  steam-engine  emancipated  millions  from  the  slavery  of 
daily  toil  and  left  them  at  liberty  to  pursue  a  higher  range 
of  effort;  labor  has  become  more  remunerative,  and  the 
flood  of  wealth  has  raised  the  poor  to  comfort  and  the 
middle  classes  to  affluence.  With  prosperity  has  attended 
leisure,  books,  travel;  the  masses  have  been  provided  with 
schools,  and  the  range  of  mental  inquiry  has  become  wider 
and  more  daring.  The  sewing-machine  does  the  work  of  a 
hundred  hands,  and  gives  rest  and  hope  to  weary  lives. 
Farming,  as  my  distinguished  friend  from  New  York  [Mr. 
Evarts]  once  said,  has  become  a  ''sedentary  occupation." 
The  reaper  no  longer  swings  his  sickle  in  midsummer  fields 
through  the  yellowish  grain,  followed  by  those  who  gather 
the  wheat  and  the  tares,  but  he  rides  in  a  vehicle,  protected 


320  HOW  TO  SPEAK  IN  PUBLIC 

from  the  meridian  sun,  accomplishing  in  comfort  in  a  single 
hour  the  former  labors  of  a  day. 

By  these  and  other  emancipating  devices  of  society  the 
laborer  and  the  artisan  acquire  the  means  of  study  and 
recreation.  They  provide  their  children  with  better  op- 
portunities than  they  possessed.  Emerging  from  the  obscure 
degradation  to  which  they  have  been  consigned  by  mon- 
archies, they  have  assumed  the  leadership  in  politics  and 
society.  The  governed  have  become  the  governors ;  the  sub- 
jects have  become  the  kings.  They  have  formed  states; 
they  have  invented  political  systems ;  they  have  made  laws ; 
they  have  established  literatures;  and  it  is  not  true,  Mr. 
President,  in  one  sense,  that  during  this  extraordinary 
period  the  rich  have  grown  richer  and  the  poor  have  grown 
poorer.  There  has  never  been  a  time,  since  the  angel  stood 
with  the  flaming  sword  before  the  gates  of  Eden,  when  the 
dollar  of  invested  capital  paid  as  low  a  return  in  interest 
as  it  does  to-day ;  nor  has  there  been  an  hour  when  the  dol- 
lar that  is  earned  by  the  laboring  man  would  buy  so  much 
of  everything  that  is  essential  for  the  welfare  of  himself 
and  his  family  as  it  will  to-day. 

Mr.  President,  monopolies  and  corporations,  however 
strong  they  may  be,  can  not  permanently  enslave  such  a 
people.  They  have  given  too  many  convincing  proofs  of 
their  capacity  for  self-government.  They  have  made  too 
many  incredible  sacrifices  for  this  great  system,  wrhich  has 
been  builded  and  established  here,  to  allow  it  to  be  over- 
thrown. They  will  submit  to  no  dictation. 


The  people  of  the  country  that  I  represent  have  lost  their 
reverence  for  gold.     They  have  no  longer  any  superstition 


SELECTIONS  FOR  PRACTISE  321 

about  coin.  Notwithstanding  the  declarations  of  the  mono- 
metallists ;  notwithstanding  the  assaults  that  have  been  made 
by  those  who  are  in  favor  of  still  further  increasing  the 
value  of  the  standard  by  which  their  possessions  are  meas- 
ured, they  know  that  money  is  neither  wealth,  nor  capital, 
nor  value,  and  that  it  is  merely  the  creation  of  the  law  by 
which  all  these  are  estimated  and  measured. 

We  speak,  sir,  about  the  volume  of  money,  and  about  its 
relation  to  the  wealth  and  capital  of  the  country.  Let  me 
ask  you,  sir,  for  a  moment,  what  would  occur  if  the  circula- 
ting medium  were  to  be  destroyed  ?  Suppose  that  the  gold 
and  silver  were  to  be  withdrawn  suddenly  from  circulation 
and  melted  up  into  bars  and  ingots  and  buried  in  the  earth 
from  which  they  were  taken.  Suppose  that  all  the  paper 
money,  silver  certificates,  gold  certificates,  national  bank 
notes,  treasury  notes,  were  stacked  in  one  mass  at  the  end 
of  the  treasury  building  and  the  torch  applied  to  them,  and 
they  were  to  be  destroyed  by  fire,  and  their  ashes  scattered, 
like  the  ashes  of  Wyclif,  upon  the  Potomac,  to  be  spread 
abroad,  wide  as  its  waters  be. 

What  would.be  the  effect?  Would  not  this  country  be 
worth  exactly  as  much  as  it  is  to-day  ?  Would  there  not  be 
just  as  many  acres  of  land,  as  many  houses,  as  many  farms, 
as  many  days  of  labor,  as  much  improved  and  unimproved 
merchandise,  and  as  much  property  as  there  is  to-day  ?  The 
result  would  be  that  commerce  would  languish,  the  sails  of 
the  ships  would  be  furled  in  the  harbors,  the  great  trains 
would  cease  to  run  to  and  fro  on  their  errands,  trade  would 
be  reduced  to  barter,  and,  the  people  finding  their  energies 
languishing,  civilization  itself  would  droop,  and  we  should 
be  reduced  to  the  condition  of  the  nomadic  wanderers  upon 
the  primeval  plains. 


322  HOW  TO  SPEAK  IN  PUBLIC 

Suppose,  on  the  other  hand,  that  instead  of  being  de- 
stroyed, all  the  money  in  this  country  were  to  be  put  in  the 
possession  of  a  single  man — gold,  and  paper,  and  silver — 
and  he  were  to  be  moored  in  mid- Atlantic  upon  a  raft  with 
his  great  hoard,  or  to  be  stationed  in  the  middle  of  Sahara 's 
desert  without  food  to  nourish,  or  shelter  to  cover,  or  the 
means  of  transportation  to  get  away.  Who  would  be  the 
richest  man,  the  possessor  of  the  gigantic  treasure  or  the 
humblest  settler  upon  the  plains  of  the  West,  with  a  dugout 
to  shelter  him,  and  with  corn  meal  and  water  enough  for 
his  daily  bread? 

Doubtless,  Mr.  President,  you  search  the  Scriptures  daily, 
and  are  therefore  familiar  with  the  story  of  those  depraved 
politicians  of  Judea  who  sought  to  entangle  the  Master  in 
His  talk,  by  asking  Him  if  it  were  lawful  to  pay  tribute  to 
Cagsar  or  not.  He,  perceiving  the  purpose  that  they  had  in 
view,  said  unto  them,  ''Show  me  the  tribute  money ";  and 
they  brought  him  a  penny.  He  said,  "Whose  is  this  image 
and  superscription  ? ' '  and  they  replied,  ' '  Caesar  V ;  and  He 
said,  ' '  Render  unto  Cagsar  the  things  that  are  Caesar 's,  and 
unto  God  the  things  that  are  God's." 

I  hold,  Mr.  President,  between  my  thumb  and  finger,  a 
silver  denarius,  or  '  *  penny, ' '  of  that  ancient  time — perhaps 
the  identical  coin  that  was  brought  by  the  hypocritical 
Herodian — bearing  the  image  and  superscription  of  Csesar. 
It  has  been  money  for  more  than  twenty  centuries.  It  was 
money  when  Jesus  walked  the  waves  and  in  the  tragic  hour 
at  Gethsemane.  Imperial  Cagsar  is  "dead  and  turned  to 
clay."  He  has  yielded  to  a  mightier  conqueror,  and  his 
eagles,  his  ensigns,  and  his  trophies  are  indistinguishable 
dust.  His  triumphs  and  his  victories  are  a  schoolboy 's  tale. 
Rome  herself  is  but  a  memory.  Her  marble  porticos  and 


SELECTIONS  FOR  PRACTISE  323 

temples  and  palaces  are  in  ruins.  The  sluggish  monk  and 
the  lazy  Roman  lazzaroni  haunt  the  Senate  House  and  the 
Coliseum,  and  the  derisive  owl  wakes  the  echoes  of  the 
voiceless  Forum.  But  this  little  contemporary  disk  of  silver 
is  money  still,  because  it  bears  the  image  and  superscription 
of  Caesar.  And,  sir,  it  will  continue  to  be  money  for  twenty 
centuries  more,  should  it  resist  so  long  the  corroding  canker 
and  the  gnawing  tooth  of  time.  But  if  one  of  these  pages 
should  take  this  coin  to  the  railway  track,  as  boys  sometimes 
do,  and  allow  the  train  to  pass  over  it,  in  one  single  instant 
its  function  would  be  destroyed.  It  would  contain  as  many 
grains  of  silver  as  before,  but  it  would  be  money  no  longer, 
because  the  image  and  superscription  of  Caesar  had  disap- 
peared. 

Mr.  President,  money  is  the  creation  of  law,  and  the 
American  people  have  learned  that  lesson,  and  they  are  in- 
different to  the  assaults,  they  are  indifferent  to  the  argu- 
ments, they  are  indifferent  to  the  aspersions  which  are  cast 
upon  them  for  demanding  that  the  law  of  the  United  States 
shall  place  the  image  and  superscription  of  Caesar  upon 
silver  enough  and  gold  enough  and  paper  enough  to  enable 
them  to  transact  without  embarrassment,  without  hindrance, 
without  delay,  and  without  impoverishment  their  daily 
business  affairs,  and  that  shall  give  them  a  measure  of 
values  that  will  not  make  their  earnings  and  their  belong- 
ings the  sport  and  the  prey  of  speculators. 

Mr.  President,  this  contest  can  have  but  one  issue.  The 
experiment  that  has  begun  will  not  fail.  It  is  useless  to 
deny  that  many  irregularities  have  been  tolerated  here; 
that  many  crimes  have  been  committed  in  the  sacred  name 
of  liberty;  that  our  public  affairs  have  been  scandalous 
episodes  to  which  every  patriotic  heart  reverts  with  distress ; 


324  HOW  TO  SPEAK  IN  PUBLIC 

that  there  have  been  envy  and  jealousy  in  high  places;  that 
there  have  been  treacherous  and  lying  platforms ;  that  there 
have  been  shallow  compromises  and  degrading  concessions 
to  popular  errors ;  but,  amid  all  these  disturbances,  amid  all 
these  contests,  amid  all  these  inexplicable  aberrations,  the 
path  of  the  nation  has  been  steadily  onward. 

At  the  beginning  of  our  second  century  we  have  entered 
upon  a  new  social  and  political  movement  whose  results 
can  not  be  predicted,  but  which  are  certain  to  be  infinitely 
momentous.  That  the  progress  will  be  upward  I  have  no 
doubt.  Through  the  long  and  desolate  tract  of  history, 
through  the  seemingly  aimless  struggles,  the  random  gro- 
pings  of  humanity,  the  turbulent  chaos  of  wrong,  injustice, 
crime,  doubt,  want,  and  wretchedness,  the  dungeon  and  the 
block,  the  inquisition  and  the  stake,  the  trepidations  of  the 
oppressed,  the  bloody  exultations  and  triumph  of  tyrants, — 

The  uplifted  ax,  the  agonizing  wheel, 

Luke's  iron  crown  and  Damien's  bed  of  steel, — 

the  tendency  has  been  toward  the  light.  Out  of  every  con- 
flict some  man  or  sect  or  nation  has  emerged  with  higher 
privileges,  greater  opportunities,  purer  religion,  broader 
liberty,  and  greater  capacity  for  happiness ;  and  out  of  this 
conflict  in  which  we  are  now  engaged  I  am  confident  finally 
will  come  liberty,  justice,  equality ;  the  continental  unity  of 
the  American  republic,  the  social  fraternity  and  the  in- 
dustrial independence  of  the  American  people. 


SELECTIONS  FOR  PRACTISE  325 

AGAINST  CAPITAL  PUNISHMENT 

BY   ROBESPIERRE 

The  news  having  been  brought  to  Athens  that  Athenian 
citizens  had  been  sentenced  to  death  in  the  town  of  Argos, 
the  people  hastened  to  the  temples  to  implore  the  gods  to 
divert  the  Athenians  from  thoughts  so  cruel  and  so  baleful. 
I  come  to  urge,  not  the  gods,  but  the  legislators,  who  should 
be  the  organ  and  the  interpreters  of  the  eternal  laws  the 
Divinity  has  dictated  to  men,  to  strike  from  the  French 
code  the  laws  of  blood,  which  command  judicial  murder — 
which  are  repugnant  to  their  habits  and  their  new  Constitu- 
tion. I  will  prove  to  them:  First,  that  the  death  penalty 
is  essentially  unjust;  secondly,  that  it  is  not  the  most  re- 
pressive of  punishments,  and  that  it  increases  crimes  much 
more  than  it  prevents  them. 

Outside  of  civil  society,  let  an  inveterate  enemy  attempt 
to  take  my  life,  or,  twenty  times  repulsed,  let  him  again 
return  to  devastate  the  field  my  hands  have  cultivated. 
Inasmuch  as  I  can  only  oppose  my  individual  strength  to 
his,  I  must  perish  or  I  must  kill  him,  and  the  law  of  natural 
defense  justifies  and  approves  me.  But  in  society,  when 
the  strength  of  all  is  armed  against  one  single  individual, 
what  principle  of  justice  can  authorize  it  to  put  him  to 
death  ?  What  necessity  can  there  be  to  absolve  it  ?  A  con- 
queror who  causes  the  death  of  his  captive  enemies  is  called 
a  barbarian !  A  man  who  causes  a  child  that  he  can  disarm 
and  punish,  to  be  strangled,  appears  to  us  a  monster!  A 
prisoner  that  society  convicts  is  at  the  utmost  to  that  society 
but  a  vanquished,  powerless,  and  harmless  enemy.  He  is 


326  HOW  TO  SPEAK  IN  PUBLIC 

before  it  weaker  than  a  child  before  a  full-grown  man. 

Therefore,  in  the  eyes  of  truth  and  justice,  these  death 
scenes  which  it  orders  with  so  much  preparation  are  but 
cowardly  assassinations — solemn  crimes  committed,  not  by 
individuals,  but  by  entire  nations,  with  due  legal  forms. 
However  cruel,  however  extravagant  these  laws  may  be,  be 
not  astonished.  They  are  the  handiwork  of  a  few  tyrants; 
they  are  the  chains  with  which  they  load  down  humankind ; 
they  are  the  arms  with  which  they  subjugate  them !  They 
were  written  in  blood !  "It  is  not  permitted  to  put  to  death 
a  Roman  citizen " — this  was  the  law  that  the  people  had 
adopted;  but  Sulla  conquered  and  said:  "All  those  who 
have  borne  arms  against  me  deserve  death."  Octavius, 
and  the  companions  of  his  misdeeds,  confirmed  this  law. 

Under  Tiberius,  to  have  praised  Brutus  was  a  crime 
worthy  of  death.  Caligula  sentenced  to  death  those  who 
were  sacrilegious  enough  to  disrobe  before  the  image  of  the 
emperor.  When  tyranny  had  invented  the  crimes  of  lese- 
majeste  (which  might  be  either  trivial  acts  or  heroic  deeds), 
he  who  should  have  dared  to  think  that  they  could  merit  a 
lighter  penalty  than  death  would  himself  have  been  held 
guilty  of  lese-majeste. 

When  fanaticism,  born  of  the  monstrous  union  of  igno- 
rance and  despotism,  in  its  turn  invented  the  crimes  of 
lese-majeste  against  God — when  it  thought,  in  its  frenzy, 
to  avenge  God  himself — was  it  not  obliged  to  offer  him 
blood  and  to  place  him  on  the  level  of  the  monsters  who 
called  themselves  his  images?  The  death  penalty  is  neces- 
sary, say  the  partizans  of  antiquated  and  barbarous  routine ! 
Without  it  there  is  no  restraint  strong  enough  against  crime. 
Who  has  told  you  so?  Have  you  reckoned  with  all  the 
springs  through  which  penal  laws  can  act  upon  human 


SELECTIONS  FOR  PRACTISE  327 

sensibility?  Alas!  before  death  how  much  physical  and 
moral  suffering  can  not  man  endure ! 

The  wish  to  live  gives  way  to  pride,  the  most  imperious 
of  all  the  passions  which  dominate  the  heart  of  man.  The 
most  terrible  punishment  for  social  man  is  opprobrium;  it 
is  the  overwhelming  evidence  of  public  execration.  When 
the  legislator  can  strike  the  citizens  in  so  many  places  and 
in  so  many  ways,  how  can  he  believe  himself  reduced  to 
employ  the  death  penalty?  Punishments  are  not  made 
to  torture  the  guilty,  but  to  prevent  crime  from  fear  of 
incurring  them. 

The  legislator  who  prefers  death  and  atrocious  punish- 
ments to  the  mildest  means  within  his  power  outrages  pub- 
lic delicacy,  and  deadens  the  moral  sentiment  of  the  people 
he  governs,  in  a  way  similar  to  that  in  which  an  awkward 
teacher  brutalizes  and  degrades  the  mind  of  his  pupil  by 
the  frequency  of  cruel  chastisements.  In  the  end,  he  wears 
and  weakens  the  springs  of  government,  in  trying  to  bend 
them  with  greater  force. 

The  legislator  who  establishes  such  a  penalty  renounces 
the  wholesome  principle  that  the  most  efficacious  method  of 
repressing  crimes  is  to  adapt  the  punishments  to  the  charac- 
ter of  the  various  passions  which  produce  them,  and  to  pun- 
ish them,  so  to  speak,  by  their  own  selves.  He  confounds 
all  ideas,  he  disturbs  all  connections,  and  opposes  openly 
the  object  of  all  penal  laws. 

The  penalty  of  death  is  necessary,  you  say?  If  such  is 
the  case,  why  have  several  nations  been  able  to  do  without 
it?  By  what  fatality  have  these  nations  been  the  wisest, 
the  happiest,  and  the  freest?  If  the  death  penalty  is  the 
proper  way  to  prevent  great  crimes,  it  must  then  be  that 
they  were  rarer  with  these  people  who  have  adopted  and 


328  HOW  TO  SPEAK  IN  PUBLIC 

extended  it.  Now,  the  contrary  is  exactly  the  case.  See 
Japan :  nowhere  are  the  death  penalty  and  extreme  punish- 
ments so  frequent;  nowhere  are  crimes  so  frequent  and 
atrocious.  It  is  as  if  the  Japanese  tried  to  dispute  in  fe- 
rocity the  barbarous  laws  which  outrage  and  irritate  them. 
The  republics  of  Greece,  where  punishments  were  moderate, 
where  the  death  penalty  was  either  very  rare  or  absolutely 
unknown — did  they  produce  more  crimes  or  less  virtues 
than  the  countries  governed  by  the  laws  of  blood?  Do 
you  believe  that  Rome  was  more  disgraced  by  heinous 
crimes  when,  in  the  days  of  her  glory,  the  Porcian  Law 
had  abolished  the  severe  punishments  applied  by  the  kings 
and  by  the  decemvirs,  than  she  was  under  Sulla,  who  had 
revived  them,  and  under  the  emperors  who  exerted  their 
rigor  to  a  degree  in  keeping  with  their  infamous  tyranny? 
Has  Russia  suffered  any  upheaval  since  the  despot  who 
governs  her  suppressed  entirely  the  death  penalty,  as  if 
he  wished  to  expiate  by  that  act  of  humanity  and  philoso- 
phy the  crime  of  keeping  millions  of  men  under  the  yoke 
of  absolute  power? 

Listen  to  the  voice  of  justice  and  of  reason ;  it  cries  to  us 
that  human  judgments  are  never  certain  enough  to  warrant 
society  in  giving  death  to  a  man  convicted  by  other  men 
liable  to  error.  Had  you  imagined  the  most  perfect  judicial 
system;  had  you  found  the  most  upright  and  enlightened 
judges — there  will  always  remain  some  room  for  error  or 
prejudice.  Why  interdict  to  yourselves  the  means  of  repa- 
ration? Why  condemn  yourself  to  powerlessness  to  help 
oppressed  innocence?  What  good  can  come  of  the  sterile 
regrets,  these  illusory  reparations  you  grant  to  a  vain  shade, 
to  insensible  ashes?  They  are  the  sad  testimonials  of  the 
barbarous  temerity  of  your  penal  laws.  To  rob  the  man  of 


SELECTIONS  FOR  PRACTISE  329 

the  possibility  of  expiating  his  crime  by  his  repentance  or 
by  acts  of  virtue;  to  close  to  him  without  mercy  every  re- 
turn toward  a  proper  life,  and  his  own  esteem;  to  hasten 
his  descent,  as  it  were,  into  the  grave  still  covered  with  the 
recent  blotch  of  his  crime — is  in  my  eyes  the  most  horrible 
refinement  of  cruelty. 

The  first  duty  of  the  lawmaker  is  to  form  and  to  con- 
serve public  morals,  as  the  source  of  all  liberty,  the  source 
of  all  social  happiness.  When,  to  attain  some  special  aim, 
he  loses  sight  of  this  general  and  essential  object,  he  com- 
mits the  grossest  and  most  fatal  of  errors.  Therefore  the 
laws  must  ever  present  to  the  people  the  purest  model  of 
justice  and  of  reason.  If,  in  lieu  of  this  puissant  severity, 
of  this  moderate  calmness  which  should  characterize  them, 
they  replace  it  by  anger  and  vengeance ;  if  they  cause  hu- 
man blood  to  flow  which  they  can  prevent — which  they 
have  no  right  to  spill;  if  they  exhibit  to  the  eyes  of  the 
people  cruel  scenes  and  corpses  bruised  by  tortures — then 
they  change  in  the  hearts  of  the  citizens  all  ideas  of  the  just 
and  of  the  unjust;  they  cause  to  germinate  in  the  bosom  of 
society  ferocious  prejudices  which  in  their  turn  again  pro- 
duce others.  Man  is  no  longer  for  man  an  object  so  sacred 
as  before.  One  has  a  lower  idea  of  his  dignity  when  public 
authority  makes  light  of  his  life.  The  idea  of  the  murder 
fills  us  with  less  horror  when  the  law  itself  sets  the  example 
and  provides  the  spectacle;  the  horror  of  the  crime  dimin- 
ishes from  tlie  time  law  no  longer  punishes  it  except  by 
another  crime.  Have  a  care  not  to  confound  the  efficiency 
of  punishment  with  excess  of  severity;  the  one  is  abso- 
lutely opposed  to  the  other.  Everything  favors  moderate 
laws ;  everything  conspires  against  cruel  laws.  It  has  been 
remarked  that  in  free  countries  crimes  are  of  rarer  occur- 


330  HOW  TO  SPEAK  IN  PUBLIC 

rence  and  the  penal  laws  lighter;  all  ideas  are  linked  to- 
gether. Free  countries  are  those  in  which  the  rights  of 
man  are  respected,  and  where,  consequently,  the  laws  are 
just.  Where  they  offend  humanity  by  an  excess  of  rigor, 
it  is  a  proof  that  there  the  dignity  of  man  is  not  known  and 
that  the  dignity  of  the  citizen  does  not  exist.  It  is  a  proof 
that  the  legislator  is  but  a  master  who  commands  slaves  and 
punishes  them  mercilessly  according  to  his  whim. 


SIMPLICITY  AND  GREATNESS 
BY  FENELON 

•  There  is  a  simplicity  that  is  a  defect,  and  a  simplicity 
that  is  a  virtue.  Simplicity  may  be  a  want  of  discernment. 
When  we  speak  of  a  person  as  simple,  we  may  mean  that 
he  is  credulous  and  perhaps  vulgar.  The  simplicity  that 
is  a  virtue  is  something  sublime — every  one  loves  and  ad- 
mires it ;  but  it  is  difficult  to  say  exactly  what  this  virtue  is. 
Simplicity  is  an  uprightness  of  soul  that  has  no  reference 
to  self ;  it  is  different  from  sincerity,  and  it  is  a  still  higher 
virtue.  We  see  many  people  who  are  sincere,  without  being 
simple;  they  only  wish  to  pass  for  what  they  are,  and  they 
are  unwilling  to  appear  what  they  are  not;  they  are  al- 
ways thinking  of  themselves,  measuring  their  words,  and 
recalling  their  thoughts,  and  renewing  their  actions,  from 
the  fear  that  they  have  done  too  much  or  too  little.  These 
persons  are  sincere,  but  they  are  not  simple;  they  are 
not  at  ease  with  others  and  others  are  not  at  ease  with 
them ;  they  are  not  free,  ingenuous,  natural ;  we  prefer  peo- 
ple wrho  are  less  correct,  less  perfect,  and  who  are  less  ar- 


SELECTIONS  FOR  PRACTISE  331 

tificial.  This  is  the  decision  of  man,  and  it  is  the  judgment 
of  God,  who  would  not  have  us  so  occupied  with  ourselves, 
and  thus,  as  it  were,  always  arranging  our  features  in  a 
mirror. 

To  be  wholly  occupied  with  others,  never  to  look  within, 
is  the  state  of  blindness  of  those  who  are  entirely  engrossed 
by  what  is  present  and  addressed  to  their  senses ;  this  is  the 
very  reverse  of  simplicity.  To  be  absorbed  in  self  in  what- 
ever engages  us,  whether  we  are  laboring  for  our  fellow 
beings  or  for  God — to  be  wise  in  our  own  eyes,  reserved, 
and  full  of  ourselves,  troubled  at  the  least  thing  that  dis- 
turbs our  self-complacency,  is  the  opposite  extreme.  This 
is  false  wisdom,  which,  with  all  its  glory,  is  but  little  less 
absurd  than  that  folly  which  pursues  only  pleasure.  The 
one  is  intoxicated  with  all  that  it  sees  around,  the  other 
with  all  that  it  imagines  it  has  within ;  but  it  is  delirium  in 
both.  To  be  absorbed  in  the  contemplation  of  our  own 
minds  is  really  worse  than  to  be  engrossed  by  outward 
things,  because  it  appears  like  wisdom  and  yet  is  not;  we 
do  not  think  of  curing  it;  we  pride  ourselves  upon  it;  we 
approve  of  it;  it  gives  us  an  unnatural  strength;  it  is 
a  sort  of  frenzy;  we  are  not  conscious  of  it;  we  are  dying, 
and  we  think  ourselves  in  health. 

Simplicity  consists  in  a  just  medium,  in  which  we  are 
neither  too  much  excited,  nor  too  composed.  The  soul  is 
not  carried  away  by  outward  things,  so  that  it  cannot  make 
all  necessary  reflections;  neither  does  it  make  those  con- 
tinual references  to  self,  that  a  jealous  sense  of  its  own  ex- 
cellence multiplies  to  infinity.  That  freedom  of  the  soul, 
which  looks  straight  onward  in  its  path,  losing  no  time  to 
reason  upon  its  steps,  to  study  them,  or  to  contemplate 
those  that  it  has  already  taken,  is  true  simplicity. 


332  HOW  TO  SPEAK  IN  PUBLIC 

The  first  step  in  the  progress  of  the  soul  is  disengage- 
ment from  outward  things,  that  it  may  enter  into  itself, 
and  contemplate  its  true  interests;  this  is  a  wise  self-love. 
The  second  is,  to  join  to  this  the  idea  of  God  whom  it  fears ; 
this  is  the  feeble  beginning  of  true  wisdom,  but  the  soul  is 
still  fixed  upon  itself :  it  is  afraid  that  it  does  not  fear  God 
enough ;  it  is  still  thinking  of  itself.  These  anxieties  about 
ourselves  are  far  removed  from  that  peace  and  liberty  which 
a  true  and  simple  love  inspires;  but  it  is  not  yet  time  for 
this.  The  soul  must  pass  through  this  trouble ;  this  operation 
of  the  spirit  of  God  in  our  hearts  comes  to  us  gradually ;  we 
approach  step  by  step  to  this  simplicity.  In  the  third  and 
last  state,  we  begin  to  think  of  God  more  frequently,  we 
think  of  ourselves  less,  and  insensibly  we  lose  ourselves 
in  Him. 

The  more  gentle  and  docile  the  soul  is,  the  more  it  ad- 
vances in  this  simplicity.  It  does  not  become  blind  to  its 
own  defects,  and  unconscious  of  its  imperfections;  it  is 
more  than  ever  sensible  of  them;  it  feels  a  horror  of  the 
slightest  sin ;  it  sees  more  clearly  its  own  corruption.  This 
sensibility  does  not  arise  from  dwelling  upon  itself,  but 
by  the  light  from  the  presence  of  God,  we  see  how  far  re- 
moved we  are  from  infinite  purity. 

Thus  simplicity  is  free  in  its  course,  since  it  makes  no 
preparation;  but  it  can  only  belong  to  the  soul  that  is 
purified  by  a  true  penitence.  It  must  be  the  fruit  of  a  per- 
fect renunciation  of  self,  and  an  unreserved  love  of  God. 
But  tho  they,  who  become  penitents,  and  tear  themselves 
from  the  vanities  of  the  world,  make  self  the  object  of 
thought,  yet  they  must  avoid  an  excessive  and  unquiet 
occupation  with  themselves,  such  as  would  trouble,  and 
embarrass,  and  retard  them  in  their  progress.  Dwelling 


SELECTIONS  FOR  PRACTISE  333 

too  much  upon  self  produces  in  weak  minds  useless  scru- 
ples and  superstition,  and  in  stronger  minds  a  presumptuous 
wisdom.  Both  are  contrary  to  true  simplicity,  which  is 
free  and  direct,  and  gives  itself  up,  without  reserve  and  with 
a  generous  self-forgetfulness,  to  the  Father  of  spirits.  How 
free,  how  intrepid  are  the  motions,  how  glorious  the  prog- 
ress that  the  soul  makes,  when  delivered  from  all  low, 
and  interested,  and  unquiet  cares! 

If  we  desire  that  our  friends  be  simple  and  free  with  us, 
disencumbered  of  self  in  their  intimacy  with  us,  will  it  not 
please  God,  who  is  our  truest  friend,  that  we  should  sur- 
render our  souls  to  Him,  without  fear  or  reserve,  in  that 
holy  and  sweet  communion  with  Himself  which  He  allows 
us?  It  is  this  simplicity  which  is  the  perfection  of  the 
true  children  of  God.  This  is  the  end  that  we  must  have 
in  view,  and  to  which  we  must  be  continually  advancing. 

This  deliverance  of  the  soul  from  all  useless,  and  selfish, 
and  unquiet  cares,  brings  to  it  a  peace  and  freedom  that  are 
unspeakable ;  this  is  true  simplicity.  It  is  easy  to  perceive, 
at  the  first  glance,  how  glorious  it  is;  but  experience  alone 
can  make  us  comprehend  the  enlargement  of  heart  that  it 
produces.  We  are  then  like  a  child  in  the  arms  of  its 
parent;  we  wish  nothing  more;  we  fear  nothing;  we  yield 
ourselves  up  to  this  pure  attachment;  we  are  not  anxious 
about  what  others  think  of  us;  all  our  motions  are  free, 
graceful,  and  happy.  We  do  not  judge  ourselves,  and  we 
do  not  fear  to  be  judged.  Let  us  strive  after  this  lovely 
simplicity;  let  us  seek  the  path  that  leads  to  it.  The 
further  we  are  from  it,  the  more  we  must  hasten  our  steps 
toward  it.  Very  far  from  being  simple,  most  Christians 
are  not  even  sincere.  They  are  not  only  disingenuous,  but 
they  are  false,  and  they  dissemble  with  their  neighbor, 


334  HOW  TO  SPEAK  IN  PUBLIC 

with  God,  and  with  themselves.  They  practise  a  thousand 
little  arts  that  indirectly  distort  the  truth.  Alas!  every 
man  is  a  liar;  those  even  who  are  naturally  upright,  sin- 
cere, and  ingenuous,  and  who  are  what  is  called  simple 
and  natural,  still  have  this  jealous  and  sensitive  reference 
to  self  in  everything,  which  secretly  nourishes  pride  and 
prevents  that  true  simplicity  which  is  the  renunciation 
and  perfect  oblivion  of  self. 

But  it  will  be  said,  How  can  I  help  being  occupied  with 
myself  ?  A  crowd  of  selfish  fears  troubles  me,  and  tyrannize 
over  my  mind,  and  excite  a  lively  sensibility.  The  prin- 
cipal means  to  cure  this  is  to  yield  yourself  up  sincerely  to 
God;  to  place  all  your  interests,  pleasures,  and  reputation 
in  His  hands ;  to  receive  all  the  sufferings  that  He  may  in- 
flict upon  you  in  this  scene  of  humiliation,  as  trials  and  tests 
of  your  love  to  Him,  neither  to  fear  the  scrutiny,  nor  to 
avoid  the  censure  of  mankind.  This  state  of  willing  acquies- 
cence produces  true  liberty,  and  this  liberty  brings  perfect 
simplicity.  A  soul  that  is  liberated  from  the  little  earthly 
interests  of  self-love  becomes  confiding,  and  moves  straight 
onward,  and  its  views  expand  even  to  infinity,  just  in  pro- 
portion as  its  forgetfulness  of  self  increases,  and  its  peace 
is  profound  even  in  the  midst  of  trouble. 

I  have  already  said  that  the  opinion  of  the  world  con- 
forms to  the  judgment  of  God  upon  this  noble  simplicity. 
The  world  admires,  even  in  its  votaries,  the  free  and  easy 
manners  of  a  person  who  has  lost  sight  of  self.  But  the 
simplicity,  which  is  produced  by  a  devotion  to  external 
things,  still  more  vain  than  self,  is  not  the  true  simplicity ; 
it  is  only  an  image  of  it,  and  cannot  represent  its  greatness. 
They  who  cannot  find  the  substance,  pursue  the  shadow; 
and  shadow  as  it  is,  it  has  a  charm,  for  it  has  some  resem- 


SELECTIONS  FOR  PRACTISE  335 

blance  to  the  reality  that  they  have  lost.  A  person  full  of 
defects,  who  does  not  attempt  to  hide  them,  who  does  not 
seek  to  dazzle,  who  does  not  affect  either  talents  or  virtue, 
who  does  not  appear  to  think  of  himself  more  than  of  oth- 
ers, but  to  have  lost  sight  of  this  self  of  which  we  are  so 
jealous,  pleases  greatly,  in  spite  of  his  defects.  This  false 
simplicity  is  taken  for  the  true.  On  the  contrary,  a  person 
full  of  talents,  of  virtues,  and  of  exterior  graces,  if  he  ap- 
pear artificial,  if  he  be  thinking  of  himself,  if  he  affect  the 
very  best  things,  is  a  tedious  and  wearisome  companion  that 
no  one  likes. 

Nothing,  then,  we  grant,  is  more  lovely  and  grand  than 
simplicity.  But  some  will  say,  Must  we  never  think  of 
self?  We  need  not  practise  this  constraint;  in  trying  to 
be  simple,  we  may  lose  simplicity.  What,  then,  must  we 
do  ?  Make  no  rule  about  it,  but  be  satisfied  that  you  affect 
nothing.  When  you  are  disposed  to  speak  of  yourself 
from  vanity,  you  can  only  repress  this  strong  desire  by 
thinking  of  God,  or  of  what  you  are  called  upon  by  Him 
to  do.  Simplicity  does  not  consist  in  false  shame  or  false 
modesty,  any  more  than  in  pride  or  vainglory.  When 
vanity  would  lead  to  egotism,  we  have  only  to  turn  from 
self ;  when,  on  the  contrary,  there  is  a  necessity  of  speaking 
of  ourselves,  we  must  not  reason  too  much  about  it:  we 
must  look  straight  at  the  end.  But  what  will  they  think 
of  me?  They  will  think  I  am  boasting;  I  shall  be  sus- 
pected in  speaking  so  freely  of  my  own  concerns.  None 
of  these  unquiet  reflections  should  trouble  us  for  one  mo- 
ment. Let  us  speak  freely,  ingenuously,  and  simply  of 
ourselves  when  we  are  called  upon  to  speak.  It  is  thus 
that  St.  Paul  spoke  often  in  his  Epistles.  What  true  great- 
ness there  is  in  speaking  with  simplicity  of  one's  self! 


336  HOW  TO  SPEAK  IN  PUBLIC 

Vainglory  is  sometimes  hidden  under  an  air  of  modesty 
and  reserve.  People  do  not  wish  to  proclaim  their  own 
merit,  but  they  would  be  very  glad  that  others  should  dis- 
cover it.  They  would  have  the  reputation  .both  of  virtue 
and  of  the  desire  to  hide  it. 

As  to  the  matter  of  speaking  against  ourselves,  I  do  not 
either  blame  or  recommend  it.  When  it  arises  from  true 
simplicity,  and  that  hatred  with  which  God  inspires  us 
for  our  sins,  it  is  admirable,  and  thus  I  regard  it  in  many 
holy  men.  But  usually  the  surest  and  most  simple  way  is 
not  to  speak  unnecessarily  of  one's  self,  either  good  or  evil. 
Self-love  often  prefers  abuse  to  oblivion  and  silence;  and 
when  we  have  often  spoken  ill  of  ourselves,  we  are  quite 
ready  to  be  reconciled,  just  like  angry  lovers,  who,  after 
a  quarrel,  redouble  their  devotion  to  each  other. 

This  simplicity  is  manifested  in  the  exterior.  As  the 
mind  is  freed  from  this  idea  of  self,  we  act  more  naturally, 
all  art  ceases,  and  we  act  rightly  without  thinking  of  what 
we  are  doing,  by  a  sort  of  directness  of  purpose  that  is  in- 
explicable to  those  who  have  no  experience  of  it.  To  some 
we  may  appear  less  simple  than  those  who  have  a  more 
grave  and  practised  manner;  but  these  are  people  of  bad 
taste,  who  take  the  affectation  of  modesty  for  modesty  it- 
self, and  who  have  no  knowledge  of  true  simplicity.  This 
true  simplicity  has  sometimes  a  careless  and  irregular  ap- 
pearance, but  it  has  the  charm  of  truth  and  candor,  and 
sheds  around  it  I  know  not  what  of  purity  and  innocence, 
of  cheerfulness  and  peace;  a  loveliness  that  wms  us  when 
we  see  it  intimately  and  with  pure  eyes. 

How  desirable  is  this  simplicity!  who  will  give  it  to 
me?  I  will  quit  all  else  to  obtain  it,  for  it  is  the  pearl 
of  great  price. 


SELECTIONS  FOR  PRACTISE  337 

SPEECH  WHEN  UNDER  SENTENCE  OF  DEATH 
BY  ROBERT  EMMET 

MY  LORDS,  what  have  I  to  say  why  sentence  of  death 
should  not  be  pronounced  on  me  according  to  law  ?  I  have 
nothing  to  say  that  can  alter  your  predetermination,  nor 
that  it  will  become  me  to  say  with  any  view  to  the  mitiga- 
tion of  that  sentence  which  you  are  here  to  pronounce  and 
I  must  abide  by.  But  I  have  that  to  say  which  interests 
me  more  than  life  and  which  you  have  labored  (as  was  nec- 
essarily your  office  in  the  present  circumstances  of  this 
oppressed  country)  to  destroy.  I  have  much  to  say  why 
my  reputation  should  be  rescued  from  the  load  of  false 
accusation  and  calumny  which  has  been  heaped  upon  it. 
I  do  not  imagine  that,  seated  where  you  are,  your  minds 
can  be  so  free  from  impurity  as  to  receive  the  least  im- 
pression from  what  I  am  going  to  utter — I  have  no  hopes 
that  I  can  anchor  my  character  in  the  breast  of  a  court  con- 
stituted and  trammeled  as  this  is — I  only  wish,  and  it  is 
the  utmost  I  expect,  that  your  lordships  may  suffer  it  to 
float  down  your  memories,  untainted  by  the  foul  breath  of 
prejudice,  until  it  finds  some  more  hospitable  harbor  to 
shelter  it  from  the  storm  by  which  it  is  at  present  buffeted. 

Was  I  only  to  suffer  death  after  being  adjudged  guilty 
by  your  tribunal,  I  should  bow  in  silence  and  meet  the  fate 
that  awaits  me  without  a  murmur;  but  the  sentence  of  law 
which  delivers  my  body  to  the  executioner  will,  through  the 
ministry  of  that  law,  labor  in  its  own  vindication  to  con- 
sign my  character  to  obloquy — for  there  must  be  guilt 
somewhere:  whether  in  the  sentence  of  the  court  or  in  the 
catastrophe,  posterity  must  determine. 


338  HOW  TO  SPEAK  IN  PUBLIC 

A  man  in  my  situation,  my  lords,  has  not  only  to  encoun- 
ter the  difficulties  of  fortune  and  the  force  of  power  over 
minds  which  it  has  corrupted  or  subjugated,  but  the  diffi- 
culties of  established  prejudice :  the  man  dies,  but  his  mem- 
ory lives.  That  mine  may  not  perish,  that  it  may  live  in 
the  respect  of  my  countrymen,  I  seize  upon  this  oppor- 
tunity to  vindicate  myself  from  some  of  the  charges  alleged 
against  me. 

When  my  spirit  shall  be  wafted  to  a  more  friendly  port ; 
when  my  shade  shall  have  joined  the  bands  of  those  mar- 
tyred heroes  who  have  shed  their  blood  on  the  scaffold  and 
in  the  field  in  defense  of  their  country  and  of  virtue,  this 
is  my  hope :  I  wish  that  my  memory  and  name  may  animate 
those  who  survive  me,  while  I  look  down  with  complacency 
on  the  destruction  of  that  perfidious  government  which  up- 
holds its  dominion  by  blasphemy  of  the  Most  High — which 
displays  its  power  over  man  as  over  the  beasts  of  the  forest ; 
which  sets  man  upon  his  brother  and  lifts  his  hand  in  the 
name  of  God  against  the  throat  of  his  fellow  who  believes 
or  doubts  a  little  more  or  a  little  less  than  the  government 
standard — a  government  which  is  steeled  to  barbarity  by 
the  cries  of  the  orphans  and  the  tears  of  the  widows  which 
it  has  made 

[Here  Lord  Norbury  interrupted  Mr.  Emmet,  saying 
that  the  mean  and  wicked  enthusiasts  who  felt  as  he  did 
were  not  equal  to  the  accomplishment  of  their  wild  designs.  ] 

I  appeal  to  the  immaculate  God — I  swear  by  the  throne 
of  heaven,  before  which  I  must  shortly  appear — by  the 
blood  of  the  murdered  patriots  who  have  gone  before  me— 
that  my  conduct  has  been,  through  all  this  peril  and  all 
my  purposes,  governed  only  by  the  convictions  which  I 


SELECTIONS  FOR  PRACTISE  339 

have  uttered,  and  by  no  other  view  than  that  of  their  cure 
and  the  emancipation  of  my  country  from  the  superhuman 
oppression  under  which  she  has  so  long  and  too  patiently 
travailed;  and  that  I  confidently  and  assuredly  hope  that, 
wild  and  chimerical  as  it  may  appear,  there  is  still  union 
and  strength  in  Ireland  to  accomplish  this  noble  enterprise. 
Of  this  I  speak  with  the  confidence  of  intimate  knowledge 
and  with  the  consolation  that  appertains  to  that  confidence. 
Think  not,  my  lord,  I  say  this  for  the  petty  gratification  of 
giving  you  a  transitory  uneasiness;  a  man  who  never  yet 
raised  his  voice  to  assert  a  lie  will  not  hazard  his  character 
with  posterity  by  asserting  a  falsehood  on  a  subject  so  im- 
portant to  his  country  and  on  an  occasion  like  this.  Yes, 
my  lords,  a  man  who  does  not  wish  to  have  his  epitaph 
written  until  his  country  is  liberated  will  not  leave  a  weapon 
in  the  power  of  envy,  nor  a  pretense  to  impeach  the  probity 
which  he  means  to  preserve  even  in  the  grave  to  which 
tyranny  consigns  him. 

[Here  he  was  again  interrupted  by  the  court.] 

Again  I  say,  that  what  I  have  spoken  was  not  intended 
for  your  lordship,  whose  situation  I  commiserate  rather  than 
envy — my  expressions  were  for  my  countrymen ;  if  there  is 
a  true  Irishman  present,  let  my  last  words  cheer  him  in 
the  hour  of  his  affliction. 

[Here  he  was  again  interrupted.  Lord  Norbury  said  he 
did  not  sit  there  to  hear  treason.] 

I  have  always  understood  it  to  b^  the  duty  of  a  judge, 
when  a  prisoner  has  been  convicted,  to  pronounce  the  sen- 
tence of  the  law;  I  have  also  understood  that  judges  some- 


340  HOW  TO  SPEAK  IN  PUBLIC 

times  think  it  their  duty  to  hear  with  patience  and  to  speak 
with  humanity ;  to  exhort  the  victim  of  the  laws  and  to  offer 
with  tender  benignity  his  opinions  of  the  motives  by  which 
he  was  actuated  in  the  crime  of  which  he  had  been  adjudged 
guilty :  that  a  judge  has  thought  it  his  duty  so  to  have  done, 
I  have  no  doubt — but  where  is  the  boasted  freedom  of  your 
institutions,  where  is  the  vaunted  impartiality,  clemency, 
and  mildness  of  your  courts  of  justice,  if  an  unfortunate 
prisoner,  whom  your  policy,  and  not  pure  justice,  is  about 
to  deliver  into  the  hands  of  the  executioner,  is  not  suffered 
to  explain  his  motives  sincerely  and  truly,  and  to  vindicate 
the  principles  by  which  he  was  actuated? 

My  lords,  it  may  be  a  part  of  the  system  of  angry  justice 
to  bow  a  man's  mind  by  humiliation  to  the  purposed  igno- 
miny of  the  scaffold;  but  worse  to  me  than  the  purposed 
shame  or  the  scaffold's  terrors  would  be  the  shame  of  such 
foul  and  unfounded  imputations  as  have  been  laid  against 
me  in  this  court.  You,  my  lord,  are  a  judge ;  I  am  the  sup- 
posed culprit ;  I  am  a  man,  you  are  a  man  also ;  by  a  rev- 
olution of  power  we  might  change  places,  tho  we  never 
could  change  characters.  If  I  stand  at  the  bar  of  this  court 
and  dare  not  vindicate  my  character,  what  a  farce  is  your 
justice?  If  I  stand  at  this  bar  and  dare  not  vindicate  my 
character,  how  dare  you  calumniate  it?  Does  the  sentence 
of  death  which  your  unhallowed  policy  inflicts  on  my  body 
also  condemn  my  tongue  to  silence  and  my  reputation  to 
reproach?  Your  executioner  may  abridge  the  period  of 
my  existence ;  but  while  I  exist  I  shall  not  forbear  to  vin- 
dicate my  character  and  motives  from  your  aspersions ;  and 
as  a  man  to  whom  fame  is  dearer  than  life  I  will  make  the 
last  use  of  that  life  in  doing  justice  to  that  reputation  which 
is  to  live  after  me,  and  which  is  the  only  legacy  I  can  leave 


POR  PRACTISE  341 

to  those  I  honor  and  love,  and  for  whom  I  am  proud  to 
perish.  As  men,  my  lord,  we  must  appear  at  the  great  day 
at  one  common  tribunal,  and  it  will  then  remain  for  the 
Searcher  of  all  hearts  to  show  a  collective  universe  who  was 
engaged  in  the  most  virtuous  actions  or  actuated  by  the 
purest  motives  —  my  country's  oppressors  or— 

[Here  he  was  interrupted  and  told  to  listen  to  the  sen- 
tence of  the  law.] 

My  lord,  will  a  dying  man  be  denied  the  legal  privilege 
of  exculpating  himself,  in  the  eyes  of  the  community,  of  an 
undeserved  reproach  thrown  upon  him  during  his  trial,  by 
charging  him  with  ambition  and  attempting  to  cast  away, 
for  a  paltry  consideration,  the  liberties  of  his  country? 
Why  did  your  lordship  insult  me,  or,  rather,  why  insult 
justice,  in  demanding  of  me  why  sentence  of  death  should 
not  be  pronounced  ?  I  know,  my  lord,  that  form  prescribes 
that  you  should  ask  the  question  ;  the  form  also  presumes  a 
right  of  answering.  This,  no  doubt,  may  be  dispensed  with 
—  and  so  might  the  whole  ceremony  of  trial,  since  sentence 
was  already  pronounced  at  the  Castle  before  your  jury 
was  impaneled;  your  lordships  are  but  the  priests  of  the 
oracle,  and  I  submit  ;  but  I  insist  on  the  whole  of  the  forms. 

[Here  the  court  desired  him  to  proceed.] 

I  am  charged  with  being  an  emissary  of  France!  An 
emissary  of  France  !  And  for  what  end  ?  It  is  alleged  that 
I  wished  to  sell  the  independence  of  my  country  !  And  for 
what  end?  Was  this  the  object  of  my  ambition?  And  is 
this  the  mode  by  which  a  tribunal  of  justice  reconciles  con- 
tradictions? No,  I  am  no  emissary;  and  my  ambition  was 


342  HOW  TO  SPEAK  IN  PUBLIC 

to  hold  a  place  among  the  deliverers  of  my  country — not  in 
power  nor  in  profit,  but  in  the  glory  of  the  achievement! 
Sell  my  country 's  independence  to  France !  And  for  what  ? 
Was  it  for  a  change  of  masters?  No!  But  for  ambition! 
0  my  country,  was  it  personal  ambition  that  could  influ- 
ence me,  had  it  been  the  soul  of  my  actions,  could  I  not  by 
my  education  and  fortune,  by  the  rank  and  consideration 
of  my  family,  have  placed  myself  among  the  proudest  of 
my  oppressors  ?  My  country  was  my  idol ;  to  it  I  sacrificed 
every  selfish,  every  endearing  sentiment;  and  for  it  I  now 
offer  up  my  life.  0  God!  No,  my  lord;  I  acted  as  an 
Irishman,  determined  on  delivering  my  country  from  the 
yoke  of  a  foreign  and  unrelenting  tyranny,  and  from  the 
more  galling  yoke  of  a  domestic  faction,  which  is  its  joint 
partner  and  perpetrator  in  the  parricide,  whose  reward  is 
the  ignominy  of  existing  with  an  exterior  of  splendor  and 
of  conscious  depravity.  It  was  the  wish  of  my  heart  to 
extricate  my  country  from  this  doubly-riveted  despotism. 

I  wished  to  place  her  independence  beyond  the  reach  of 
any  power  on  earth;  I  wished  to  exalt  her  to  that  proud 
station  in  the  world. 

Connection  with  France  was  indeed  intended,  but  only 
as  far  as  mutual  interest  would  sanction  or  require.  Were 
they  to  assume  any  authority  inconsistent  with  the  purest 
independence,  it  would  be  the  signal  for  their  destruction. 
We  sought  aid,  and  we  sought  it  as  we  had  assurances  we 
should  obtain  it — as  auxiliaries  in  war  and  allies  in  peace. 

Were  the  French  to  come  as  invaders  or  enemies,  unin- 
vited by  the  wishes  of  the  people,  I  should  oppose  them  to 
the  utmost  of  my  strength.  Yes,  my  countrymen,  I  should 
advise  you  to  meet  them  on  the  beach  with  a  swTord  in  one 
hand  and. a  torch  in  the  other;  I  would  meet  them  with  all 


SELECTIONS  FOR  PRACTISE  343 

the  destructive  fury  of  war ;  and  I  would  animate  my  coun- 
trymen to  immolate  them  in  their  boats  before  they  had  con- 
taminated the  soil  of  my  country.  If  they  succeeded  in 
landing,  and  if  forced  to  retire  before  superior  discipline,  I 
would  dispute  every  inch  of  ground,  burn  every  blade  of 
grass,  and  the  last  intrenchment  of  liberty  should  be  my 
grave.  What  I  could  not  do  myself,  if  I  should  fall,  I 
should  leave  as  a  last  charge  to  my  countrymen  to  accom- 
plish; because  I  should  feel  conscious  that  life,  any  more 
than  death,  is  unprofitable  when  a  foreign  nation  holds 
my  country  in  subjection. 

But  it  was  not  as  an  enemy  that  the  succors  of  France 
were  to  land ;  I  looked  indeed  for  the  assistance  of  France ; 
but  I  wished  to  prove  to  France  and  to  the  world  that  Irish- 
men deserved  to  be  assisted! — that  they  were  indignant  at 
slavery  and  ready  to  assert  the  independence  and  liberty 
of  their  country. 

I  wished  to  procure  for  my  country  the  guarantee  which 
Washington  procured  for  America ;  to  procure  an  aid  which 
by  its  example  would  be  as  important  as  its  valor,  disci- 
plined, gallant,  pregnant  with  science  and  experience ;  which 
would  perceive  the  good  and  polish  the  rough  points  of  our 
character.  They  would  come  to  us  as  strangers  and  leave 
us  as  friends,  after  sharing  in  our  perils  and  elevating  our 
destiny.  These  were  my  objects — not  to  receive  new  task- 
masters, but  to  expel  old  tyrants ;  these  were  my  views,  and 
these  only  become  Irishmen.  It  was  for  these  ends  I  sought 
aid  from  France ;  because  France,  even  as  an  enemy,  could 
not  be  more  implacable  than  the  enemy  already  in  the 
bosom  of  my  country. 

[Here  he  was  interrupted  by  the  court] 


344  HOW  TO  SPEAK  IN  PUBLIC 

I  have  been  charged  with  that  importance  in  the  efforts 
to  emancipate  my  country  as  to  be  considered  the  keystone 
of  the  combination  of  Irishmen;  or,  as  your  lordship  ex- 
pressed it,  "the  life  and  blood  of  conspiracy."  You  do  me 
honor  overmuch.  You  have  given  to  the  subaltern  all  the 
credit  of  a  superior.  There  are  men  engaged  in  this  con- 
spiracy who  are  not  only  superior  to  me,  but  even  to  your 
own  conceptions  of  yourself,  my  lord ;  men  before  the  splen- 
dor of  whose  genius  and  virtues  I  should  bow  with  respect- 
ful deference,  and  who  would  think  themselves  dishonored 
to  be  called  your  friend — who  would  not  disgrace  themselves 
by  shaking  your  blood-stained  hand 

[Here  he  was  interrupted.] 

What,  my  lord,  shall  you  tell  me,  on  the  passage  to  that 
scaffold  which  that  tyranny,  of  which  you  are  only  the  inter- 
mediary executioner,  has  erected  for  my  murder,  that  I  am 
accountable  for  all  the  blood  that  has  and  will  be  shed  in 
this  struggle  of  the  oppressed  against  the  oppressor  ? — shall 
you  tell  me  this — and  must  I  be  so  very  a  slave  as  not  to 
repel  it! 

I  do  not  fear  to  approach  the  Omnipotent  Judge  to  an- 
swer for  the  conduct  of  my  whole  life ;  and  am  I  to  be  ap- 
palled and  falsified  by  a  mere  remnant  of  mortality  here  ? — 
by  you,  too,  who,  if  it  were  possible  to  collect  all  the  inno- 
cent blood  that  you  have  shed  in  your  unhallowed  ministry, 
in  one  great  reservoir,  your  lordship  might  swim  in  it. 

[Here  the  judge  interfered.] 

Let  no  man  dare,  when  I  am  dead,  to  charge  me  with 
dishonor ;  let  no  man  attaint  my  memory  by  believing  that 


SELECTIONS  FOR  PRACTISE  345 

I  could  have  engaged  in  any  cause  but  that  of  my  country 's 
liberty  and  independence;  or  that  I  could  have  become  the 
pliant  minion  of  power  in  the  oppression  or  the  miseries  .of 
my  countrymen.  The  proclamation  of  the  provisional  gov- 
ernment speaks  for  our  views ;  no  inference  can  be  tortured 
from  it  to  countenance  barbarity  or  debasement  at  home, 
or  subjection,  humiliation,  or  treachery  from  abroad.  I 
would  not  have  submitted  to  a  foreign  oppressor  for  the 
same  reason  that  I  would  resist  the  foreign  and  domestic 
oppressor;  in  the  dignity  of  freedom  I  would  have  fought 
upon  the  threshold  of  my  country,  and  its  enemy  should 
enter  only  by  passing  over  my  lifeless  corpse.  Am  I,  who 
lived  but  for  my  country,  and  who  have  subjected  myself 
to  the  dangers  of  the  jealous  and  watchful  oppressor  and 
the  bondage  of  the  grave  only  to  give  my  countrymen  their 
rights  and  my  country  her  independence, — am  I  to  be 
loaded  with  calumny  and  not  suffered  to  resent  or  repel 
it?  No,  God  forbid! 

If  the  spirits  of  the  illustrious  dead  participate  in  the 
concerns  and  cares  of  those  who  are  dear  to  them  in  this 
transitory  life — 0  ever  dear  and  venerated  shade  of  my 
departed  father,  look  down  with  scrutiny  upon  the  conduct 
of  your  suffering  son,  and  see  if  I  have  even  for  a  moment 
deviated  from  those  principles  of  morality  and  patriotism 
which  it  was  your  care  to  instil  into  my  youthful  mind,  and 
for  which  I  am  now  to  offer  up  my  life ! 

My  lords,  you  are  impatient  for  the  sacrifice:  the  blood 
which  you  seek  is  not  congealed  by  the  artificial  terrors 
which  surround  your  victim;  it  circulates  warmly  and  un- 
ruffled through  the  channels  which  God  created  for  noble 
purposes,  but  which  you  are  bent  to  destroy  for  purposes 
so  grievous  that  they  cry  to  heaven. 


346  HOW  TO  SPEAK  IN  PUBLIC 

Be  yet  patient !  I  have  but  a  few  words  more  to  say.  I 
am  going  to  my  cold  and  silent  grave:  my  lamp  of  life  is 
nearly  extinguished:  my  race  is  run:  the  grave  opens  to 
receive  me,  and  I  sink  into  its  bosom!  I  have  but  one 
request  to  ask  at  my  departure  from  this  world — it  is  the 
charity  of  its  silence !  Let  no  man  write  my  epitaph :  for 
as  no  man  who  knows  my  motives  dare  now  vindicate  them, 
let  not  prejudice  or  ignorance  asperse  them.  Let  them  and 
me  repose  in  obscurity  and  peace,  and  my  tomb  remain  un- 
inscribed,  until  other  times  and  other  men  can  do  justice 
to  my  character.  When  my  country  takes  her  place  among 
the  nations  of  the  earth,  then,  and  not  till  then,  let  my  epi- 
taph be  written.  I  have  done. 


KING  HENRY  VIII 

/    ACT  III,  SCENE  2 — WOLSEY  AND  CROMWELL 
SCENE  :  An  antechamber  in  Henry  VIII.  's  palace. 

Wol.    So  farewell  to  the  little  good  you  bear  me. 
Farewell !  a  long  farewell  to  all  my  greatness ! 
This  is  the  state  of  man ;  to-day  he  puts  forth 
The  tender  leaves  of  hope ;  to-morrow  blossoms, 
And  bears  his  blushing  honors  thick  upon  him ; 
The  third  day  comes  a  frost,  a  killing  frost, 
And,  when  he  thinks,  good  easy  man,  full  surely 
His  greatness  is  a-ripening,  nips  his  root, 
And  then  he  falls,  as  I  do.    I  have  ventur'd, 
Like  little  wanton  boys  that  swim  on  bladders, 
This  many  summers  in  a  sea  of  glory, 


SELECTIONS  FOR  PRACTISE  347 

But  far  beyond  my  depth ;  my  high  blown  pride 
At  length  broke  under  me,  and  now  has  left  me, 
Weary  and  old  with  service,  to  the  mercy 
Of  a  rude  stream,  that  must  forever  hide  me. 
Vain  pomp  and  glory  of  this  world,  I  hate  ye ; 
I  feel  my  heart  new-opened.    Oh,  how  wretched 
Is  that  poor  man  that  hangs  on  princes '  favors ! 
There  is,  betwixt  that  smile  we  would  aspire  to, 
That  sweet  aspect  of  princes,  and  their  ruin, 
More  pangs  and  fears  than  wars  or  women  have ; 
And  when  he  falls,  he  falls  like  Lucifer, 
Never  to  hope  again. 

Enter  CROMWELL. 

Why,  how  now,  Cromwell  ? 

Crom.    I  have  no  power  to  speak,  sir. 

Wol.  What,  amazed 

At  my  misfortunes  ?  can  thy  spirit  wonder 
A  great  man  should  decline  ?    Nay,  an  you  weep, 
I  am  fall'n  indeed. 

Crom.  How  does  your  grace  ? 

Wol.  Why,  well ; 

Never  so  truly  happy,  my  good  Cromwell. 
I  know  myself  now ;  and  I  feel  within  me 
A  peace  above  all  earthly  dignities, 
A  still  and  quiet  conscience.    The  king  has  cur'd  me, 
I  humbly  thank  his  grace;  and  from  these  shoulders, 
These  ruin'd  pillars,  out  of  pity,  taken 
A  load  would  sink  a  navy — too  much  honor; 
Oh,  'tis  a  burden,  Cromwell,  'tis  a  burden 
Too  heavy  for  a  man  that  hopes  for  heaven ! 


348  HOW  TO  SPEAK  IN  PUBLIC 

Crom.     I  am  glad  your  grace  has  made  that  right  use  of  it 

Wol.     I  hope  I  have ;  I  am  able  now,  methinks, 
Out  of  a  fortitude  of  soul  I  feel, 
To  endure  more  miseries  and  greater  far 
Than  my  weak-hearted  enemies  dare  offer. 
What  news  abroad? 

Crom.  The  heaviest  and  the  worst 

Is  your  displeasure  with  the  king. 

Wol.  God  bless  him! 

Crom.     The  next  is,  that  Sir  Thomas  More  is  chosen 
Lord  chancellor  in  your  place. 

Wol.  That's  somewhat  sudden; 

But  he 's  a  learned  man.    May  he  continue 
Long  in  his  highness'  favor,  and  do  justice 
For  truth 's  sake  and  his  conscience ;  that  his  bones, 
When  he  has  run  his  course  and  sleeps  in  blessings, 
May  have  a  tomb  of  orphans '  tears  wept  on  them ! 
What  more? 

Crom.  That  Cranmer  is  return 'd  with  welcome, 

Install  'd  lord  archbishop  of  Canterbury. 

Wol.     That's  news  indeed. 

Crom.  Last,  that  the  Lady  Anne, 

Whom  the  king  hath  in  secrecy  long  married, 
This  day  was  view'd  in  open  as  his  queen, 
Going  to  chapel ;  and  the  voice  is  now 
Only  about  her  coronation. 

Wol.     There  was  the  weight  that  pull'd  me  down.     0 

Cromwell, 

The  king  has  gone  beyond  me ;  all  my  glories 
In  that  one  woman  I  have  lost  forever ; 
No  sun  shall  ever  usher  forth  mine  honors, 
Or  gild  again  the  noble  troops  that  waited 


SELECTIONS  FOR  PRACTISE  349 

Upon  my  smiles.    Go,  get  thee  from  me,  Cromwell; 

I  am  a  poor  fall'n  man,  unworthy  now 

To  be  thy  lord  and  master ;  seek  the  king ; 

That  sun,  I  pray,  may  never  set !   I  have  told  him 

What  and  how  true  thou  art;  he  will  advance  thee; 

Some  little  memory  of  me  will  stir  him — 

I  know  his  noble  nature — not  to  let 

Thy  hopeful  service  perish  too;  good  Cromwell, 

Neglect  him  not;  make  use  now,  and  provide 

For  thine  own  future  safety. 

Crom.  0  my  lord, 

Must  I,  then,  leave  you?  must  I  needs  forego 
So  good,  so  noble,  and  so  true  a  master? 
Bear  witness,  all  that  have  not  hearts  of  iron, 
With  what  a  sorrow  Cromwell  leaves  his  lord. 
The  king  shall  have  my  service ;  but  my  prayers 
For  ever  and  for  ever  shall  be  yours. 

Wol.     Cromwell,  I  did  not  think  to  shed  a  tear 
In  all  my  miseries ;  but  thou  hast  fore  'd  me, 
Out  of  thy  honest  truth,  to  play  the  woman. 
Let's  dry  our  eyes;  and  thus  far  hear  me,  Cromwell; 
And,  when  I  am  forgotten,  as  I  shall  be, 
And  sleep  in  dull  cold  marble,  where  no  mention 
Of  me  more  must  be  heard  of,  say,  I  taught  thee, 
Say,  Wolsey,  that  once  trod  the  ways  of  glory, 
And  sounded  all  the  depths  and  shoals  of  honor, 
Found  thee  a  way,  out  of  his  wreck,  to  rise  in ; 
A  sure  and  safe  one,  tho  thy  master  miss'd  it. 
Mark  but  my  fall,  and  that  which  ruin'd  me. 
Cromwell,  I  charge  thee,  fling  away  ambition ! 
By  that  sin  fell  the  angels ;  how  can  man,  then, 
The  image  of  his  Maker,  hope  to  win  by  it  1 


350  HOW  TO  SPEAK  IN  PUBLIC 

Love  thyself  last ;  cherish  those  hearts  that  hate  thee ; 

Corruption  wins  not  more  than  honesty. 

Still  in  thy  right  hand  carry  gentle  peace, 

To  silence  envious  tongues.    Be  just,  and  fear  not ; 

Let  all  the  ends  thou  aim'st  at  be  thy  country's, 

Thy  God's  and  truth's;  then,  if  thou  fall'st,  0  Cromwell, 

Thou .f all 'st  a  blessed  martyr!    Serve  the  king; 

And, — prithee  lead  me  in; 

There  take  an  inventory  of  all  I  have, 

To  the  last  penny;   'tis  the  king's;  my  robe, 

And  my  integrity  to  Heaven,  are  all 

I  dare  now  call  mine  own.    0  Cromwell,  Cromwell! 

Had  I  but  serv'd  my  God  with  half  the  zeal 

I  serv'd  my  king,  he  would  not  in  mine  age 

Have  left  me  naked  to  mine  enemies ! 

Crom.     Good  sir,  have  patience. 

Wol.  So  I  have.    Farewell 

The  hopes  of  court!  my  hopes  in  heaven  do  dwell. 

[Exeunt. 

KING  JOHN 
PARTS  OF  ACTS  III  AND  IV 

SCENE  :  Plain  near  Anglers.  Elinor  the  Queen-mother,  has 

taken  Arthur  aside  to  console  him,  and  John 

beckons  to  Hubert. 

K.  John.     Come  hither,  Hubert.     0  my  gentle  Hubert, 
We  owe  thee  much ;  within  this  wall  of  flesh 
There  is  a  soul,  counts  thee  her  creditor, 
And  with  advantage  means  to  pay  thy  love : 
Give  me  thy  hand.    I  had  a  thing  to  say, — 
But  I  will  fit  it  with  some  better  time. 


SELECTIONS  FOR  PRACTISE  351 

By  Heaven,  Hubert,  I  am  almost  ashamed 
To  say  what  good  respect  I  have  of  thee. 

Hub.     I  am  much  bounden  to  your  majesty. 

K.  John.    Good  friend,  thou  hast  no  cause  to  say  so  yet: 
But  thou  shalt  have ;  and  creep  time  ne  'er  so  slow, 
Yet  it  shall  come,  for  me  to  do  thee  good. 
I  had  a  thing  to  say, — But  let  it  go : 
The  sun  is  in  the  heaven,  and  the  proud  day, 
Attended  with  the  pleasures  of  the  world, 
Is  all  too  wanton,  and  too  full  of  gawds, 
To  give  me  audience : — If  the  midnight  bell 
Did,  with  his  iron  tongue  and  brazen  mouth, 
Sound  one  unto  the  drowsy  race  of  night; 
If  this  same  were  a  churchyard  where  we  stand, 
And  thou  possessed  with  a  thousand  wrongs; 
Or  if  that  surly  spirit,  melancholy, 
Had  baked  thy  blood,  and  made  it  heavy,  thick, 
(Which,  else,  runs  tickling  up  and  down  the  veins, 
Making  that  idiot,  laughter,  keep  men's  eyes, 
And  strain  their  cheeks  to  idle  merriment, 
A  passion  hateful  to  my  purposes ; ) 
Or  if  that  thou  couldst  see  me  without  eyes, 
Hear  me  without  thine  ears,  and  make  reply 
Without  a  tongue,  using  conceit  alone, 
Without  eyes,  ears,  and  harmful  sound  of  words ; 
Then,  in  despite  of  brooded  watchful  day, 
I  would  into  thy  bosom  pour  my  thoughts : 
But  ah,  I  will  not : — Yet  I  love  thee  well ; 
And,  by  my  troth,  I  think,  thou  lovest  me  well. 

Hub.     So  well,  that  what  you  bid  me  undertake, 
Tho  that  my  death  were  adjunct  to  my  act, 
By  Heaven,  I'd  do 't. 


352  HOW  TO  SPEAK  IN  PUBLIC 

K.  John.     Do  not  I  know  thou  wouldst? 
Good  Hubert,  Hubert,  Hubert,  throw  thine  eye 
On  yon  young  boy :  I  '11  tell  thee  what,  my  friend, 
He  is  a  very  serpent  in  my  way ; 
And,  wheresoe'er  this  foot  of  mine  doth  tread, 
He  lies  before  me :    Dost  thou  understand  me  ? 
Thou  art  his  keeper. 

Hub.     And  I  will  keep  him  so 
That  he  shall  not  offend  your  majesty. 

K.  John.     Death. 

Hub.     My  lord? 

K.  John.    A  grave. 

Hub.     He  shall  not  live. 

K.  John.     Enough. 

I  could  be  merry  now :  Hubert,  I  love  thee ; 
Well,  1 11  not  say  what  I  intend  for  thee : 
Kemember. 

SCENE:   In  a  castle,  Northampton;  Hubert  comes  in  with 
two  attendants. 

Hub.     Heat  me  these  irons  hot;  and,  look  thou  stand 
Within  the  arras :  when  I  strike  my  foot 
Upon  the  bosom  of  the  ground,  rush  forth ; 
And  bind  the  boy,  which  you  shall  find  with  me, 
Fast  to  the  chair :  be  heedful :  hence,  and  watch. 

1  Attend.     I  hope  your  warrant  will  bear  out  the  deed. 

Hub.    Uncleanly  scruples!    Fear  not  you:  look  to't. 

[Exeunt  ATTENDANTS. 

HUBERT  unlocks  the  door  of  a  cell. 
Young  lad,  come  forth ;  I  have  to  say  with  you. 


SELECTIONS  FOR  PRACTISE  353 

Enter  ARTHUR. 

Arth.     Good  morrow,  Hubert. 

Hub.     Good  morrow,  little  prince. 

Arth.     As  little  prince  (having  so  great  a  title 
To  be  more  prince)  as  may  be.    You  are  sad. 

Hub.     Indeed,  I  have  been  merrier. 

Arth.     Mercy  on  me ! 
Methinks,  nobody  should  be  sad  but  I ; 
Yet,  I  remember,  when  I  was  in  France, 
Young  gentlemen  would  be  as  sad  as  night, 
Only  for  wantonness.    By  my  Christendom, 
So  I  were  out  of  prison,  and  kept  sheep, 
I  should  be  as  merry  as  the  day  is  long : 
And  so  I  would  be  here,  but  that  I  doubt 
My  uncle  practises  more  harm  to  me ; 
He  is  afraid  of  me,  and  I  of  him : 
Is  it  my  fault,  that  I  was  Geoffrey's  son? 
No,  indeed,  it's  not;  and  I  would  to  Heaven, 
I  were  your  son,  so  you  would  love  me,  Hubert.         [Aside. 

Hub.     If  I  talk  to  him,  with  his  innocent  prate 
He  will  awake  my  mercy,  which  lies  dead : 
Therefore  I  will  be  sudden,  and  despatch. 

Arth.     Are  you  sick,  Hubert?  you  look  pale  to-day: 
In  sooth,  I  would  you  were  a  little  sick ; 
That  I  might  sit  all  night,  and  watch  with  you : 
I  warrant,  I  love  you  more  than  you  do  me.  [Aside. 

Hub.     His  words  do  take  possession  of  my  bosom. — 
Read  here,  young  Arthur.     [Showing  a  paper.]    How  now, 

foolish  rheum! 

Turning  dispiteous  torture  out  of  door! 
I  must  be  brief,  lest  resolution  drop 


354  HOW  TO  SPEAK  IN  PUBLIC 

Can  you  not  read  it  1    Is  it  not  fair  writ  ? 

Arth.     Too  fairly,  Hubert,  for  so  foul  effect: 
Must  you  with  hot  irons  burn  out  both  mine  eyes  ? 

Hub.     Young  boy,  I  must. 

Arth.     And  will  you  ? 

Hub.     And  I  will. 

Arth.     Have  you  the  heart?     When  your  head  did  but 

ache, 

I  knit  my  handkerchief  about  your  brows 
(The  best  I  had,  a  princess  wrought  it  me), 
And  I  did  never  ask  it  you  again : 
And  with  my  hand  at  midnight  held  your  head ; 
And,  like  the  watchful  minutes  to  the  hour, 
Still  and  anon  cheer  'd  up  the  heavy  time ; 
Saying,  What  lack  you  ?  and,  Where  lies  your  grief  ? 
Or,  What  good  love  may  I  perform  for  you  ? 
Many  a  poor  man's  son  would  have  lain  still, 
And  ne  'er  have  spoke  a  loving  word  to  you ; 
But  you  at  your  sick  service  had  a  prince. 
Nay,  you  may  think,  my  love  was  crafty  love, 
And  call  it,  cunning :    Do,  and  if  you  will : 
If  Heaven  be  pleased,  that  you  must  use  me  ill, 
Why,  then  thou  must.    Will  you  put  out  mine  eyes ! 
These  eyes,  that  never  did,  nor  never  shall, 
So  much  as  frown  on  you  ? 

H ub.     I  have  sworn  to  do  it ; 
And  with  hot  irons  must  I  burn  them  out. 

Arth.     Ah,  none,  but  in  this  iron  age,  would  do  it! 
The  iron  of  itself,  tho  heat  red-hot, 
Approaching  near  these  eyes,  would  drink  my  tears, 
And  quench  his  fiery  indignation, 
Even  in  the  matter  of  mine  innocence : 


SELECTIONS  FOR  PRACTISE  355 

Are  you  more  stubborn-hard  than  hammer  'd  Iron  ? 
An  if  an  angel  should  have  come  to  me, 
And  told  me,  Hubert  should  put  out  mine  eyes, 
I  would  not  have  believed  him;  no  tongue  but  Hubert's. 
Hub.     Gome  forth.  [Stamps. 

Reenter  ATTENDANTS  with  cord,  irons,  etc. 

Do  as  I  bid  you  do. 

Arth.     Oh,  save  me,  Hubert,  save  me!  my  eyes  are  out, 
Even  with  the  fierce  looks  of  these  bloody  men. 

Hub.     Give  me  the  iron,  I  say,  and  bind  him  here. 

Arth.    Alas,  what  need  you  be  so  boist  'rous-rough  ? 
I  will  not  struggle,  I  will  stand  stone-still. 
For  Heaven 's  sake,  Hubert,  let  me  not  be  bound ! 
Nay,  hear  me,  Hubert !  drive  these  men  away, 
And  I  will  sit  as  quiet  as  a  lamb ; 
I  will  not  stir,  nor  wince,  nor  speak  a  word, 
Nor  look  upon  the  iron  angerly : 
Thrust  but  these  men  away,  and  I  '11  forgive  you, 
Whatever  torment  you  do  put  me  to. 

Hub.     Go,  stand  within ;  let  me  alone  with  him. 

1  Alien.     I  am  best  pleased  to  be  from  such  a  deed. 

[Exeunt  ATTENDANTS. 

Arth.    Alas !   I  then  have  chid  away  my  friend ; 
He  hath  a  stern  look,  but  a  gentle  heart: — 
Let  him  come  back,  that  his  compassion  may 
Give  life  to  yours. 

Hub.     Come,  boy,  prepare  yourself. 

Arth.     Is  there  no  remedy  ? 

Hub.    None,  but  to  lose  your  eyes. 


356  HOW  TO  SPEAK  IN  PUBLIC 

Arth.     0  Heaven ! — that  there  were  but  a  mote  in  yours, 
A  grain,  a  dust,  a  gnat,  a  wand 'ring  hair, 
Any  annoyance  in  that  precious  sense ! 
Then,  feeling  what  small  things  are  boist'rous  there, 
Your  vile  intent  must  needs  seem  horrible. 

Hub.     Is  this  your  promise  ?    Go  to,  hold  your  tongue. 

Arth.     Hubert,  the  utterance  of  a  brace  of  tongues 
Must  needs  want  pleading  for  a  pair  of  eyes ; 
Let  me  not  hold  my  tongue ;  let  me  not,  Hubert ! 
Or,  Hubert,  if  you  will,  cut  out  my  tongue, 
So  I  may  keep  mine  eyes;  Oh,  spare  mine  eyes; 
Tho  to  no  use,  but  still  to  look  on  you ! 
Lo,  by  my  troth,  the  instrument  is  cold, 
And  would  not  harm  me. 

Hub.     I  can  heat  it,  boy. 

Arth.     No,  in  good  sooth ;  the  fire  is  dead  with  grief, 
Being  create  for  comfort,  to  be  used 
In  undeserved  extremes:  See  else  yourself; 
The  breath  of  heaven  hath  blown  his  spirit  out, 
And  strew 'd  repentant  ashes  on  his  head. 

Hub.     But  with  my  breath  I  can  revive  it,  boy. 

Arth.     And  if  you  do,  you  will  but  make  it  blush, 
And  glow  with  shame  of  your  proceedings,  Hubert : 
All  things,  that  you  should  use  to  do  me  wrong, 
Deny  their  office :  only  you  do  lack 
That  mercy  which  fierce  fire  and  iron  extends, 
Creatures  of  note,  for  mercy-lacking  uses. 

Hub.     Well,  see  to  live ;  I  will  not  touch  thine  eyes 
For  all  the  treasure  that  thine  uncle  owes : 
Yet,  I  am  sworn,  and  I  did  purpose,  boy, 
With  this  same  very  iron  to  burn  them  out. 


SELECTIONS  FOR  PRACTISE  357 

j    Arth.     Oh,  now  you  look  like  Hubert !  all  this  while 
You  were  disguised. 

Hub.     Peace :  no  more.    Adieu ; 
Your  uncle  must  not  know  but  you  are  dead : 
I  '11  fill  these  dogged  spies  with  false  reports. 
And,  pretty  child,  sleep  doubtless,  and  secure, 
That  Hubert,  for  the  wealth  of  all  the  world, 
Will  not  offend  thee. 

Arth.     0  Heaven ! — I  thank  you,  Hubert. 

Hub.     Silence ;  no  more :  Go  closely  in  with  me ; 
Much  danger  do  I  undergo  for  thee.  [Exeunt. 


JULIUS  C-ffiSAR 
ACT  III,  SCENE  2 

SCENE:  Forum  at  Rome  after  murder  of  Ccesar.     Large 

and  excited  crowd.    Brutus  goes  into  the 

rostrum  to  speak. 

3  Git.     The  noble  Brutus  is  ascended :  Silence ! 

Bru.     Be  patient  till  the  last. 

Romans,  countrymen,  and  lovers!  hear  me  for  my  cause; 
and  be  silent,  that  you  may  hear:  believe  me  for  mine 
honor;  and  have  respect  to  mine  honor,  that  you  may  be- 
lieve :  censure  me  in  your  wisdom ;  and  awake  your  senses, 
that  you  may  the  better  judge.  If  there  be  any  in  this  as- 
sembly, any  dear  friend  of  Caesar's,  to  him  I  say,  that 
Brutus'  love  to  Caesar  was  no  less  than  his.  If  then  that 
friend  demand  why  Brutus  rose  against  Caesar  this  is  my 
answer, — Not  that  I  loved  Caesar  less,  but  that  I  loved  Rome 


358  HOW  TO  SPEAK  IN  PUBLIC 

more.  Had  you  rather  Caesar  were  living,  and  die  all  slaves ; 
than  that  Caesar  were  dead,  to  live  all  free  men  ?  As  Caesar 
loved  me,  I  weep  for  him ;  as  he  was  fortunate,  I  rejoice  at 
it ;  as  he  was  valiant,  I  honor  him :  but,  as  he  was  ambitious, 
I  slew  him:  There  is  tears,  for  his  love;  joy,  for  his  for- 
tune; honor,  for  his  valor;  and  death,  for  his  ambition. 
Who  is  here  so  base  that  would  be  a  bondman?  If  any, 
speak ;  for  him  have  I  offended.  Who  is  here  so  rude,  that 
would  not  be  a  Roman?  If  any,  speak;  for  him  have  I 
offended.  Who  is  here  so  vile,  that  will  not  love  his  country  ? 
If  any,  speak ;  for  him  have  I  offended.  I  pause  for  a  reply. 

Cit.    None,  Brutus,  none. 

[Several  speaking  at  once. 

Bru.  Then  none  have  I  offended.  I  have  done  no  more 
to  Caesar,  than  you  should  do  to  Brutus.  The  question  of 
his  death  is  enrolled  in  the  Capitol:  his  glory  not  exten- 
uated, wherein  he  was  worthy;  nor  his  offenses  enforced, 
for  which  he  suffered  death. 

Enter  ANTONY  and  others,  with  Ccesar's  body. 

Here  comes  his  body,  mourned  by  Mark  Antony,  who,  tho 
he  had  no  hand  in  his  death,  shall  receive  the  benefit  of  his 
dying,  a  place  in  the  commonwealth ;  as  which  of  you  shall 
not  ?  With  this  I  depart ;  That,  as  I  slew  my  best  lover  for 
the  good  of  Rome,  I  have  the  same  dagger  for  myself,  when 
it  shall  please  my  country  to  need  my  death. 
Cit.  Live,  Brutus,  live!  live! 

1  Cit.     Bring  him  with  triumph  home  unto  his  house. 

2  Cit.     Give  him  a  statue  with  his  ancestors. 

3  Cit.    Let  him  be  Caesar. 

4  Cit.     Caesar's  better  parts 
Shall  now  be  crown 'd  in  Brutus. 


SELECTIONS  FOR  PRACTISE  359 

1  Git.    We'll  bring  him  to  his  home  with  shouts  and 
clamors. 

Bru.     My  countrymen. 

2  Cit.     Peace;  silence!   Brutus  speaks. 
1  Cit.     Peace,  ho ! 

Bru.     Good  countrymen,  let  me  depart  alone, 
And,  for  my  sake,  stay  here  with  Antony: 
Do  grace  to  Caesar's  corpse,  and  grace  his  speech 
Tending  to  Caesar 's  glories ;  which  Mark  Antony, 
By  our  permission,  is  allow 'd  to  make. 
I  do  entreat  you,  not  a  man  depart, 
Save  I  alone,  till  Antony  have  spoke.  [Exit. 

1  Cit.     Stay,  ho !  and  let  us  hear  Mark  Antony. 

3  Cit.     Let  him  go  up  into  the  public  chair ; 
We  '11  hear  him : — Noble  Antony,  go  up. 

Ant.     For  Brutus'  sake,  I  am  beholden  to  you. 

4  Cit.    What  does  he  say  of  Brutus  ? 

3  Cit.    He  says,  for  Brutus'  sake, 
He  finds  himself  beholden  to  us  all. 

4  Cit.     'Twere  best  he  speak  no  harm  of  Brutus  here. 

1  Cit.     This  Caesar  was  a  tyrant. 
3  Cit.     Nay,  that's  certain: 

We  are  bless  'd,  that  Rome  is  rid  of  him. 

2  Cit.     Peace ;  let  us  hear  what  Antony  can  say. 
Ant.     You  gentle  Romans, — 

Cit.     Peace,  ho !  let  us  hear  him. 

Ant.     Friends,  Romans,  countrymen,  lend  me  your  ears ; 
I  come  to  bury  Caesar,  not  to  praise  him. 
The  evil  that  men  do  lives  after  them ; 
The  good  is  oft  interred  with  their  bones ; 
So  let  it  be  with  Caasar.    The  noble  Brutus 
Hath  told  you  Caesar  was  ambitious : 


360  HOW  TO  SPEAK  IN  PUBLIC 

If  it  were  so,  it  was  a  grievous  fault ; 

And  grievously  hath  Caesar  answer  'd  it. 

Here,  under  leave  of  Brutus,  and  the  rest 

(For  Brutus  is  an  honorable  man; 

So  are  they  all,  all  honorable  men), 

Come  I  to  speak  in  Caesar's  funeral. 

He  was  my  friend,  faithful  and  just  to  me: 

But  Brutus  says,  he  was  ambitious ; 

And  Brutus  is  an  honorable  man. 

He  hath  brought  many  captives  home  to  Rome. 

Whose  ransoms  did  the  general  coffers  fill : 

Did  this  in  Caasar  seem  ambitious  ? 

When  that  the  poor  have  cried,  Caesar  hath  wept ; 

Ambition  should  be  made  of  sterner  stuff : 

Yet  Brutus  says,  he  was  ambitious ; 

And  Brutus  is  an  honorable  man. 

You  all  did  see,  that  on  the  Lupercal, 

I  thrice  presented  him  a  kingly  crown, 

Which  he  did  thrice  refuse.     Was  this  ambition? 

Yet  Brutus  says,  he  was  ambitious; 

And,  sure,  he  is  an  honorable  man. 

I  speak  not  to  disprove  what  Brutus  spoke, 

But  here  I  am  to  speak  what  I  do  know. 

You  all  did  love  him  once,  not  without  cause; 

What  cause  withholds  you  then  to  mourn  for  him? 

0  judgment,  thou  art  fled  to  brutish  beasts, 

And  men  have  lost  their  reason ! — Bear  with  me ; 

My  heart  is  in  the  coffin  there  with  Caesar, 

And  I  must  pause,  till  it  come  back  to  me. 

1  Cit.     Methinks,  there  is  much  reason  in  his  sayings. 

2  Cit.     If  thou  consider  rightly  of  the  matter, 
Caesar  has  had  great  wrong. 


SELECTIONS  FOB  PRACTISE  361 

3  Cit.     Has  he,  masters? 

I  fear,  there  will  a  worse  come  in  his  place. 

4  Cit.    Mark'd  ye  his  words?  he  would  not  take  the 
crown ; 

Therefore,  'tis  certain,  he  was  not  ambitious. 

1  Cit.     If  it  be  found  so,  some  will  dear  abide  it. 

2  Cit.    Poor  soul !  his  eyes  are  red  as  fire  with  weeping. 

3  Cit.     There's  not  a  nobler  man  in  Rome  than  Antony. 

4  Cit.     Now  mark  him,  he  begins  again  to  speak. 
Ant.     But  yesterday,  the  word  of  Caesar  might 

Have  stood  against  the  world :  now  lies  he  there, 
And  none  so  poor  to  do  him  reverence. 

0  masters !  if  I  were  disposed  to  stir 
Your  hearts  and  minds  to  mutiny  and  rage, 

1  should  do  Brutus  wrong,  and  Cassius  wrong, 
Who,  you  all  know,  are  honorable  men : 

I  will  not  do  them  wrong;  I  rather  choose 

To  wrong  the  dead,  to  wrong  myself,  and  you, 

Than  I  will  wrong  such  honorable  men. 

But  here's  a  parchment,  with  the  seal  of  Caesar. 

I  found  it  in  his  closet ;  'tis  his  will : 

Let  but  the  commons  hear  his  testament 

(Which,  pardon  me,  I  do  not  mean  to  read) 

And  they  would  go  and  kiss  dead  Caesar's  wounds, 

And  dip  their  napkins  in  his  sacred  blood; 

Yea,  beg  a  hair  of  him  for  memory, 

And,  dying,  mention  it  within  their  wills, 

Bequeathing  it,  as  a  rich  legacy, 

Unto  their  issue. 

4  Cit.    We'll  hear  the  will :  Read  it,  Mark  Antony. 

Cit.    The  will,  the  will;  we  will  hear  Caesar's  will. 

Ant.    Have  patience,  gentle  friends,  I  must  not  read  it; 


362  HOW  TO  SPEAK  IN  PUBLIC 

It  is  not  meet  you  know  how  Caesar  loved  you. 
You  are  not  wood,  you  are  not  stones,  but  men ; 
And,  being  men,  hearing  the  will  of  Caesar, 
It  will  inflame  you,  it  will  make  you  mad : 
Tis  good  you  know  not  that  you  are  his  heirs ; 
For  if  you  should,  0,  what  would  come  of  it! 

4  Cit.     Read  the  will ;  we  will  hear  it,  Antony : 
You  shall  read  us  the  will ;  Caesar 's  will. 

Ant.    Will  you  be  patient  ?    Will  you  stay  a  while  ? 
I  have  o  'ershot  myself,  to  tell  you  of  it. 
I  fear,  I  wrong  the  honorable  men, 
Whose  daggers  have  stabb  'd  Caesar :  I  do  fear  it. 

4  Cit.     They  were  traitors :  Honorable  men ! 

Cit.     The  will !  the  testament ! 

2  Cit.     They  were  villains,  murderers:    The  will!  read 
the  wiU! 

Ant.     You  will  compel  me  then  to  read  the  will  ? 
Then  make  a  ring  about  the  corpse  of  Caesar, 
And  let  me  show  you  him  that  made  the  will. 
Shall  I  descend  ?    And  will  you  give  me  leave  ? 

Cit.     Come  down. 

2  Cit.     Descend.  [He  comes  down  from  the  pulpit. 

3  Cit.    You  shall  have  leave. 

4  Cit.     A  ring ;  stand  round. 

1  Cit.     Stand  from  the  hearse,  stand  from  the  body. 

2  Cit.     Room  for  Antony — most  noble  Antony. 
Ant.     Nay,  press  not  so  upon  me ;  stand  far  off. 
Cit.     Stand  back !  room !  bear  back ! 

Ant.     If  you  have  tears,  prepare  to  shed  them  now. 
You  all  do  know  this  mantle :  I  remember 
The  first  time  ever  Caesar  put  it  on ; 
'Twas  on  a  summer 's  evening,  in  his  tent ; 


SELECTIONS  FOR  PRACTISE  363 

That  day  he  overcame  the  Nervii : — 

Look !   In  this  place  ran  Cassius '  dagger  through : 

See,  what  a  rent  the  envious  Casca  made : 

Through  this,  the  well-beloved  Brutus  stabb  'd ; 

And,  as  he  pluck 'd  his  cursed  steel  away, 

Mark  how  the  blood  of  Caesar  follow  'd  it ; 

As  rushing  out  of  doors,  to  be  resolved 

If  Brutus  so  unkindly  knock  'd,  or  no ; 

For  Brutus,  as  you  know,  was  Caesar's  angel: 

Judge,  0  you  gods,  how  dearly  Caesar  loved  him ! 

This  was  the  most  unkindest  cut  of  all : 

For  when  the  noble  Caesar  saw  him  stab, 

Ingratitude,  more  strong  than  traitors'  arms, 

Quite  vanquish  'd  him :  then  burst  his  mighty  heart ; 

And,  in  his  mantle  muffling  up  his  face, 

Even  at  the  base  of  Pompey's  statue 

(Which  all  the  while  ran  blood),  great  Caesar  fell. 

Oh,  what  a  fall  was  there,  my  countrymen! 

Then  I,  and  you,  and  all  of  us  fell  down, 

Whilst  bloody  treason  flourish 'd  over  us. 

0,  now  you  weep ;  and,  I  perceive,  you  feel 

The  dint  of  pity :  these  are  gracious  drops. 

Kind  souls,  what,  weep  you,  when  you  but  behold 

Our  Caesar 's  vesture  wounded  ?    Look  you  here, 

Here  is  himself,  marr'd,  as  you  see,  with  traitors. 

1  Cit.     0  piteous  spectacle! 

2  Cit.     0  noble  Caesar ! 

3  at.     0  wof ul  day ! 

4  at.     0  traitors,  villains! 

1  Cit.     0,  most  bloody  sight ! 

2  Cit.    We  will  be  revenged;  revenge;  about, — seek, — 
burn, — fire, — kill, — slay ! — let  not  a  traitor  live. 


364  HOW  TO  SPEAK  IN  PUBLIC 

Ant.     Stay,  countrymen. 

1  Cit.     Peace  there !  hear  the  noble  Antony. 

2  Cit.    We'll  hear  him,  we'll  follow  him,  we'll  die  with 
him. 

Ant.     Good  friends,  sweet  friends,  let  me  not  stir  you  up 
To  such  a  sudden  flood  of  mutiny. 
They,  that  have  done  this  deed,  are  honorable ; 
What  private  griefs  they  have,  alas,  I  know  not, 
That  made  them  do  it ;  they  are  wise  and  honorable, 
And  will,  no  doubt,  with  reasons  answer  you. 
I  come  not,  friends,  to  steal  away  your  hearts ; 
I  am  no  orator,  as  Brutus  is : 
But,  as  you  know  me  all,  a  plain  blunt  man, 
That  love  my  friend ;  and  that  they  know  full  well 
That  gave  me  public  leave  to  speak  of  him. 
For  I  have  neither  wit,  nor  words,  nor  worth, 
Action,  nor  utterance,  nor  the  power  of  speech, 
To  stir  men 's  blood :  I  only  speak  right  on ; 
I  tell  you  that,  which  you  yourselves  do  know ; 
Show  you  sweet  Caesar's  wounds,  poor,  poor  dumb  mouths, 
And  bid  them  speak  for  me :  But  were  I  Brutus, 
And  Brutus  Antony,  there  were  an  Antony 
Would  ruffle  up  your  spirits,  and  put  a  tongue 
In  every  wound  of  Caesar,  that  should  move 
The  stones  of  Rome  to  rise  and  mutiny. 

Cit.     We '11  mutiny. 

1  Cit.     We'll  burn  the  house  of  Brutus. 

3  Cit.     Away  then,  come,  seek  the  conspirators. 
Ant.     Yet  hear  me,  countrymen;  yet  hear  me  speak. 
Cit.     Peace,  ho !  hear  Antony,  most  noble  Antony. 
Ant.     Why,  friends,  you  go  to  do  you  know  not  what : 

Wherein  hath  Caesar  thus  deserved  your  loves  ? 


SELECTIONS  FOR  PRACTISE  365 

Alas !  you  know  not : — I  must  tell  you  then : — 
You  have  forgot  the  will  I  told  you  of. 

Cit.    Most  true ; — the  will ; — let's  stay,  and  hear  the  will. 

Ant.     Here  is  the  will,  and  under  Caesar's  seal. 
To  every  Roman  citizen  he  gives, 
To  every  several  man,  seventy-five  drachmas. 

2  Cit.    Most  noble  Caesar ! — we  '11  revenge  his  death. 

3  Cit.     0  royal  Caesar ! 

Ant.    Hear  me  with  patience. 

Cit.    Peace,  ho ! 

Ant.    Moreover,  he  hath  left  you  all  his  walks, 
His  private  arbors,  and  new-planted  orchards, 
On  this  side  Tiber ;  he  hath  left  them  you, 
And  to  your  heirs  forever ;  common  pleasures, 
To  walk  abroad,  and  recreate  yourselves. 
Here  was  a  Caesar :  When  comes  such  another  ? 

1  Cit.    Never,  never : — Come  away,  away : 
We'll  burn  his  body  in  the  holy  place, 

And  with  the  brands  fire  the  traitors'  houses. 
Take  up  the  body. 

2  Cit.     Go,  fetch  fire. 

3  Cit.     Pluck  down  benches. 

•    4  Cit.    Pluck  down  forms,  windows,  anything. 

[Exeunt  CITIZENS  with  the  ~body. 
Ant.    Now  let  it  work :  Mischief,  thou  art  afoot, 
Take  thou  what  course  thou  wilt ! 


366  HOW  TO  SPEAK  IN  PUBLIC 

JULIUS  CJESAR 

ACT  IV,  SCENE  3 — THE  QUARREL  OF  BRUTUS  AND  CASSIUS 

SCENE  :  Within  the  tent  of  Brutus. 

Enter  BRUTUS  and  CASSIUS. 

Cas.     That  you  have  wrong 'd  me,  doth  appear  in  this: 
You  have  condemn 'd  and  noted  Lucius  Pella, 
For  taking  bribes  here  of  the  Sardians ; 
Wherein  my  letters,  praying  on  his  side, 
Because  I  knew  the  man,  were  slighted  off. 

Bru.     You  wrong 'd  yourself  to  write  in  such  a  case. 

Cas.     In  such  a  time  as  this,  it  is  not  meet 
That  every  nice  offense  should  bear  his  comment. 

Bru.     Let  me  tell  you,  Cassius,  you  yourself 
Are  much  condemn  'd  to  have  an  itching  palm ; 
To  sell  and  mart  your  offices  for  gold, 
To  undeservers. 

Cas.     I,  an  itching  palm? 
You  know  that  you  are  Brutus  that  speak  this, 
Or,  by  the  gods,  this  speech  were  else  your  last. 

Bru.     The  name  of  Cassius  honors  this  corruption, 
And  chastisement  doth  therefore  hide  his  head. 

Cas.     Chastisement ! 

Bru.    Remember  March,  the  ides  of  March  remember  I 
Did  not  great  Julius  bleed  for  justice'  sake? 
What  villain  touch 'd  his  body,  that  did  stab, 
And  not  for  justice  ?  What,  shall  one  of  us, 
That  struck  the  foremost  man  of  all  this  world, 
But  for  supporting  robbers ;  shall  we  now 


SELECTIONS  FOR  PRACTISE  367 

Contaminate  our  fingers  with  base  bribes  ? 
And  sell  the  mighty  space  of  our  large  honors, 
For  so  much  trash,  as  may  be  grasped  thus? — 
I  had  rather  be  a  dog,  and  bay  the  moon, 
Than  such  a  Roman. 

Cas.    Brutus,  bay  not  me, 
I  '11  not  endure  it :  you  forget  yourself, 
To  hedge  me  in ;  I  am  a  soldier,  I, 
Older  in  practise,  abler  than  yourself 
To  make  conditions. 

Bru.     Go  to;  you're  not,  Cassius. 

Cas.     I  am. 

Bru.     I  say,  you  are  not. 

Cas.     Urge  me  no  more ;  I  shall  forget  myself ; 
Have  mind  upon  your  health,  tempt  me  no  farther. 

Bru.    Away,  slight  man ! 

Cas.     Is't  possible? 

Bru.    Hear  me,  for  I  will  speak. 
Must  I  give  way  and  room  to  your  rash  choler  ? 
Shall  I  be  frighted  when  a  madman  stares? 

Cas.     0  ye  gods !  ye  gods !  Must  I  endure  all  this  ? 

Bru.    All  this?   ay,  more:   Fret,  till  your  proud  heart 

break ; 

Go,  show  your  slaves  how  choleric  you  are, 
And  make  your  bondmen  tremble.    Must  I  budge  ? 
Must  I  observe  you  ?  Must  I  stand  and  crouch 
Under  your  testy  humor  ?    By  the  gods, 
You  shall  digest  the  venom  of  your  spleen, 
Tho  it  do  split  you ;  for,  from  this  day  forth 
I'll  use  you  for  my  mirth,  yea,  for  my  laughter, 
When  you  are  waspish. 

Cas.    Is  it  come  to  this  ? 


368  HOW  TO  SPEAK  IN  PUBLIC 

Bru.    You  say  you  are  a  better  soldier : 
Let  it  appear  so ;  make  your  vaunting  true, 
And  it  shall  please  me  well :  For  mine  own  part, 
I  shall  be  glad  to  learn  of  noble  men. 

Gas.     You  wrong  me  every  way,  you  wrong  me,  Brutus: 
I  said,  an  elder  soldier,  not  a  better : 
Did  I  say,  better? 

Bru.     If  you  did,  I  care  not. 

Cas.     When  Caesar  lived,  he  durst  not  thus  have  moved 
me. 

Bru.     Peace,  peace ;  you  durst  not  so  have  tempted  him. 

Cas.     I  durst  not  ? 

Bru.     No. 

Cas.     What  ?  durst  not  tempt  him  ? 

Bru.     For  your  life  you  durst  not. 

Cas.     Do  not  presume  too  much  upon  my  love ; 
I  may  do  that  I  shall  be  sorry  for. 

Bru.     You  have  done  that  you  should  be  sorry  for. 
There  is  no  terror,  Cassius,  in  your  threats ; 
For  I  am  arm'd  so  strong  in  honesty, 
That  they  pass  by  me  as  the  idle  wind, 
Which  I  respect  not.    I  did  send  to  you 
For  certain  sums  of  gold,  which  you  denied  me ; — - 
For  I  can  raise  no  money  by  vile  means : 
By  Heaven,  I  had  rather  coin  my  heart, 
And  drop  my  blood  for  drachmas,  than  to  wring 
From  the  hard  hands  of  peasants  their  vile  trash, 
By  any  indirection.    I  did  send 
To  you  for  gold  to  pay  my  legions. 
Which  you  denied  me:  Was  that  done  like  Cassius? 
Should  I  have  answer *d  Caius  Cassius  so? 
When  Marcus  Brutus  grows  so  covetous, 


SELECTIONS  FOR  PRACTISE  369 

To  lock  such  rascal  counters  from  his  friends, 
Be  ready,  gods,  with  all  your  thunderbolts, 
Dash  him  to  pieces. 

Cas.     I  denied  you  not. 

Bru.     You  did. 

Cas.     I  did  not : — he  was  but  a  fool 
That  brought  my  answer  back.— Brutus  hath  rived  my 

heart: 

A  friend  should  bear  his  friend's  infirmities, 
But  Brutus  makes  mine  greater  than  they  are. 

Bru.     I  do  not,  till  you  practise  them  on  me. 

Cas.     You  love  me  not. 

Bru.     I  do  not  like  your  faults. 

Cas.     A  friendly  eye  would  never  see  such  faults. 

Bru.     A  flatterer 's  would  not,  tho  they  do  appear 
As  huge  as  high  Olympus. 

Cas.     Come,  Antony,  and  young  Octavius,  come, 
Revenge  yourselves  alone  on  Cassius, 
For  Cassius  is  a-weary  of  the  world : 
Hated  by  one  he  loves ;  braved  by  his  brother ; 
Check  'd  like  a  bondman ;  all  his  faults  observed, 
Set  in  a  note-book,  learn  'd  and  conn  'd  by  rote, 
To  cast  into  my  teeth.    0 !  I  could  weep 
My  spirit  from  mine  eyes ;    There  is  my  dagger, 
And  here  my  naked  breast ;  within,  a  heart 
Dearer  than  Plutus'  mine,  richer  than  gold: 
If  that  thou  be'st  a  Roman,  take  it  forth; 
I,  that  denied  thee  gold,  will  give  my  heart : 
Strike,  as  thou  didst  at  Caesar ;  for,  I  know, 
When  thou  didst  hate  him  worst,  thou  lov'dst  him  better 
Than  ever  thou  lov'dst  Cassius. 

Bru.     Sheathe  your  dagger : 


370  HOW  TO  SPEAK  IN  PUBLIC 

Be  angry  when  you  will,  it  shall  have  scope ; 
Do  what  you  will,  dishonor  shall  be  humor. 
O  Cassius,  you  are  yoked  with  a  lamb, 
That  carries  anger,  as  the  flint  bears  fire ; 
Who,  much  enforced,  shows  a  hasty  spark, 
And  straight  is  cold  again. 

Cas.     Hath  Cassius  lived 
To  be  but  mirth  and  laughter  to  his  Brutus, 
When  grief,  and  blood  ill- temper 'd,  vexeth  him? 

Bru.    When  I  spoke  that,  I  was  ill-temper 'd,  too. 

Cas.    Do  you  confess  so  much  ?    Give  me  your  hand. 

Bru.     And  my  heart,  too. 

Cas.     O  Brutus!— 

Bru.    What 's  the  matter  ? 

Cas.    Have  you  not  love  enough  to  bear  with  me, 
When  that  rash  humor,  which  my  mother  gave  me, 
Makes  me  forgetful  ? 

Bru.     Yes,  Cassius ;  and,  henceforth, 
When  you  are  over-earnest  with  your  Brutus, 
He  '11  think  your  mother  chides,  and  leave  you  so. 


AS  YOU  LIKE  IT 

ACT  I,  SCENE  3 — BANISHMENT  OF  CELIA 
SCENE  :  A  room  in  the  palace. 

Duke  F.     Mistress,  dispatch  you  with  your  safest  haste 
And  get  you  from  our  court 

Eos.  Me,  uncle? 

Duke  F.  You,  cousin. 

Within  these  ten  days  if  that  thou  be'st  found 


SELECTIONS  FOR  PRACTISE  371 

So  near  our  public  court  as  twenty  miles, 
Thou  diest  for  it. 

Ros.    I  do  beseech  your  grace, 
Let  me  the  knowledge  of  my  fault  bear  with  me ; 
If  with  myself  I  hold  intelligence 
Or  have  acquaintance  with  mine  own  desires, 
If  that  I  do  not  dream,  or  be  not  frantic,— 
As  I  do  trust  I  am  not — then,  dear  uncle, 
Never  so  much  as  in  a  thought  unborn 
Did  I  offend  your  highness. 

Duke  F.     Thus  do  all  traitors : 
If  their  purgation  did  consist  in  words, 
They  are  as  innocent  as  grace  itself: 
Let  it  suffice  thee  that  I  trust  thee  not. 

Eos.     Yet  your  mistrust  cannot  make  me  a  traitor : 
Tell  me  whereon  the  likelihood  depends. 

Duke  F.     Thou  art  thy  father 's  daughter ;  there 's  enough. 

Ros.     So  was  I  when  your  highness  took  his  dukedom ; 
So  was  I  when  your  highness  banish  'd  him ; 
Treason  is  not  inherited,  my  lord ; 
Or,  if  we  did  derive  it  from  our  friends, 
What's  that  to  me?  my  father  was  no  traitor: 
Then,  my  good  liege,  mistake  me  not  so  much 
To  think  my  poverty  is  treacherous. 

Gel.     Dear  sovereign,  hear  me  speak. 

Duke  F.     Ay,  Celia ;  we  stay  'd  her  for  your  sake, 
Else  had  she  with  her  father  rang'd  along. 

Gel.     I  did  not  then  entreat  to  have  her  stay ; 
It  was  your  pleasure,  and  your  own  remorse ; 
I  was  too  young  that  time  to  value  her ; 
But  now  I  know  her ;  if  she  be  a  traitor, 
Why  so  am  I ;  we  still  have  slept  together, 


372  HOW  TO  SPEAK  IN  PUBLIC 

Rose  at  an  instant,  learn 'd,  play'd,  eat  together, 
And  wheresoe  'er  we  went,  like  Juno 's  swans, 
Still  we  went  coupl'd  and  inseparable. 

Duke  F.     She  is  too  subtle  for  thee ;  and  her  smoothness, 
Her  very  silence  and  her  patience 
Speak  to  the  people,  and  they  pity  her. 
Thou  art  a  fool ;  she  robs  thee  of  thy  name ; 
And  thou  wilt  show  more  bright  and  seem  more  virtuous 
When  she  is  gone.    Then  open  not  thy  lips ; 
Firm  and  irrevocable  is  my  doom 
Which  I  have  pass  'd  upon  her ;  she  is  banish  'd. 

Gel.     Pronounce  that  sentence  then  on  me,  my  liege ; 
I  can  not  live  out  of  her  company. 

Duke  F.     You  are  a  fool.    You,  niece,  provide  yourself ; 
If  you  outstay  the  time,  upon  mine  honor, 
And  in  the  greatness  of  my  word,  you  die. 

[Exit  DUKE  FREDERICK. 

Cel.     O!  my  poor  Rosalind,  whither  wilt  thou  go? 
Wilt  thou  change  fathers  1    I  will  give  thee  mine. 
I  charge  thee,  be  not  thou  more  grieved  than  I  am. 

Eos.     I  have  more  cause. 

Cel.  Thou  hast  not,  cousin; 

Prithee,  be  cheerful ;  know  'st  thou  not,  the  duke 
Hath  banish  'd  me,  his  daughter  ? 

Eos.  That  he  hath  not. 

Cel.     No,  hath  not?    Rosalind  lacks  then  the  love 
Which  teacheth  thee  that  thou  and  I  are  one ; 
Shall  we  be  sunder 'd?  Shall  we  part,  sweet  girl? 
No ;  let  my  father  seek  another  heir. 
Therefore  devise  with  me  how  we  may  fly, 
Whither  to  go,  and  what  to  bear  with  us ; 
And  do  not  seek  to  take  your  charge  upon  you, 


SELECTIONS  FOR  PRACTISE  373 

To  bear  your  griefs  yourself  and  leave  me  out ; 
For,  by  this  heaven,  now  at  our  sorrows  pale, 
Say  what  thou  canst,  I  '11  go  along  with  thee. 

Eos.     Why,  whither  shall  we  go  ? 

Cel.     To  seek  my  uncle  in  the  forest  of  Arden. 

Ros.    Alas !  what  danger  will  it  be  to  us, 
Maids  as  we  are,  to  travel  forth  so  far ! 
Beauty  provoketh  thieves  sooner  than  gold. 

Cel.     I'll  put  myself  in  poor  and  mean  attire, 
And  with  a  kind  of  umber  smirch  my  face ; 
The  like  do  you ;  so  shall  we  pass  along 
And  never  stir  assailants. 

Ros.  Were  it  not  better, 

Because  that  I  am  more  than  common  tall, 
That  I  did  suit  me  all  points  like  a  man  ? 
A  gallant  curtle-axe  upon  my  thigh, 
A  boar-spear  in  my  hand ;  and — in  my  heart 
Lie  there  what  hidden  woman 's  fear  there  will — 
We  '11  have  a  swashing  and  a  martial  outside, 
As  many  other  mannish  cowards  have 
That  do  outface  it  with  their  semblances. 

Cel.     What  shall  I  call  thee  when  thou  art  a  man  ? 

Ros.     I  '11  have  no  worse  a  name  than  Jove 's  own  page ; 
And  therefore  look  you  call  me  Ganymede. 
But  what  will  you  be  call  'd  ? 

Cel.     Something  that  hath  a  reference  to  my  state ; 
No  longer  Celia,  but  Aliena. 

Ros.    But,  cousin,  what  if  we  assayed  to  steal 
The  clownish  fool  out  of  your  father 's  court  ? 
Would  he  not  be  a  comfort  to  our  travel  ? 

Cel.    He'll  go  along  o'er  the  wide  world  with  me; 
Leave  me  alone  to  woo  him.    Let's  away, 


374  HOW  TO  SPEAK  IN  PUBLIC 

And  get  our  jewels  and  our  wealth  together, 
Devise  the  fittest  time  and  safest  way 
To  hide  us  from  pursuit  that  will  be  made 
After  my  flight.    Now  go  we  in  content 
To  liberty  and  not  to  banishment. 


HAMLET 

PAKT  OF  ACT  V 

SCENE  :  A  churchyard.    Two  grave-diggers. 

1st  G.  D.  Is  she  to  be  buried  in  Christian  burial  that 
wilfully  seeks  her  own  salvation? 

2d  G.  D.  I  tell  thee  she  is;  and  therefore  make  her 
grave  straight:  the  crowner  hath  set  on  her,  and  finds  it 
Christian  burial. 

1st  G.  D.  How  can  that  be,  unless  she  drowned  herself 
in  her  own  defense  ? 

3d.  G.  D.     Why,  'tis  found  so. 

1st  G.  D.  It  must  be  se  offendendo;  it  cannot  be  else. 
For  here  lies  the  point:  If  I  drown  myself  wittingly,  it 
argues  an  act:  and  an  act  hath  three  branches;  it  is,  to 
act,  to  do,  and  to  perform:  Argal,  she  drowned  herself 
wittingly. 

2d  G.  D.    Nay,  but  hear  you,  goodman  delver. 

1st.  G.  D.  Give  me  leave.  Here  lies  the  water:  good; 
here  stands  the  man :  good ;  if  the  man  go  to  this  water,  and 
drown  himself,  it  is,  will  he,  nill  he,  he  goes ;  mark  you  that ; 
but  if  the  water  come  to  him,  and  drown  him,  he  drowns 
not  himself :  Argal,  he  that  is  not  guilty  of  his  own  death, 
shortens  not  his  own  life. 

2d  G.  D.    But  is  this  law? 


SELECTIONS  FOR  PRACTISE  375 

1st  G.  D.  Ay,  marry  is't;  crowner's  quest-law.  Come, 
my  spade.  There  is  no  ancient  gentlemen  but  gardeners, 
ditchers,  and  grave-makers.  I  '11  put  a  question  to  thee :  if 
thou  answerest  me  not  to  the  purpose,  confess  thyself 

2d  G.  D.     Go  to. 

1st  G.  D.  What  is  he  that  builds  stronger  than  either 
the  mason,  the  shipwright,  or  the  carpenter  ? 

2d  G.  D.  The  gallows-maker;  for  that  frame  outlives 
a  thousand  tenants. 

1st  G.  D.  I  like  thy  wit  well,  in  good  faith :  the  gallows 
does  well.  But  how  does  it  well  ?  It  does  well  to  those  that 
do  ill :  now,  thou  dost  ill,  to  say  the  gallows  is  built  stronger 
than  the  church:  Argal,  the  gallows  may  do  well  to  thee. 
To 't  again ;  come. 

2d  G.  D.  Who  builds  stronger  than  a  mason,  a  ship- 
wright, or  a  carpenter  ? 

1st  G.  D.    Ay,  tell  me  that,  and  unyoke. 

2d  G.  D.     Marry,  now  I  can  tell. 

IstG.D.     To't. 

2d  G.  D.    Mass,  I  cannot  tell. 

Enter  HAMLET  and  HORATIO,  at  a  distance. 

1st  G.  D.  Cudgel  thy  brains  no  more  about  it,  for  your 
dull  ass  will  not  mend  his  pace  with  beating ;  and,  when  you 
are  asked  this  question  next,  say,  a  grave-maker :  the  houses 
that  he  makes  last  till  doomsday.  Go,  fetch  me  a  stoup  of 
liquor. 

[Exit  2d  Grave-digger. 

1st  G.  D.  [digs  and  sings]  : 

In  youth,  when  I  did  love,  did  love, 
Methought  it  was  very  sweet, 


376  HOW  TO  SPEAK  IN  PUBLIC 

To  contract,  (0!)  the  time,  for — a  my  behove, 
0,  methought,  there  was  nothing — a  meet. 

Ham.  Has  this  fellow  no  feeling  of  his  business,  that  he 
sings  at  grave-making? 

Hor.     Custom  hath  made  it  in  him  a  property  of  easiness. 
H am.     'Tis  e  'en  so :  the  hand  of  little  employment  hath 
the  daintier  sense. 
1st  G.  D.: 

But  age,  with  his  stealing  steps, 
Hath  claw'd  me  in  his  clutch, 
And  hath  shipped  me  intil  the  land, 
As  if  I  had  never  been  such. 

[Throws  up  a  skull. 

Hamlet.  That  skull  had  a  tongue  in  it,  and  could  sing 
once :  how  the  knave  jowls  it  to  the  ground,  as  "if  it  were 
Cain's  jaw-bone,  that  did  the  first  murder!  This  might  be 
the  pate  of  a  politician,  which  this  ass  now  o'erreaches,  one 
that  would  circumvent  heaven,  might  it  not? 

[Bones  thrown  up. 

Hora.    It  might,  my  lord. 

Hamlet.  Did  these  bones  cost  no  more  the  breeding,  but 
to  play  at  loggats  with?  Mine  ache  to  think  on't. 

1st  G.  D.  [sings]  : 

A  pick-ax,  and  a  spade,  a  spade, 

For — and  a  shrouding  sheet: 
0 !  a  pit  of  clay  for  to  be  made 

For  such  a  guest  is  meet. 

[Throws  up  another  skull. 

Hamlet.  There's  another.  Why  might  not  that  be  the 
skull  of  a  lawyer  ?  Where  be  his  quiddits  now,  his  quillets, 


SELECTIONS  FOR  PRACTISE  377 

his  cases,  his  tenures,  and  his  tricks?    Why  does  he  suffer 
this  rude  knave  now  to  knock  him  about  the  sconce  with  a 
dirty  shovel,  and  will  not  tell  him  of  his  action  of  battery  ? 
I  will  speak  to  this  fellow.    Whose  grave's  this,  sir? 
1st  G.  D.    Mine,  sir.     [Sings.] 

01  a  pit  of  clay  for  to  be  made 
For  such  a  guest  is  meet. 

Hamlet.     I  think  it  be  thine,  indeed;  for  thou  liest  in't. 

1st  G.  D.  You  lie  out  on't,  sir,  and  therefore  it  is  not 
yours :  for  my  part,  I  do  not  lie  in 't,  and  yet  it  is  mine. 

Hamlet.  Thou  dost  lie  in't,  to  be  in't,  and  say  it  is  thine : 
'tis  for  the  dead,  not  for  the  quick ;  therefore  thou  liest. 

1st  G.  D.  'Tis  a  quick  lie,  sir;  'twill  away  again,  from 
me  to  you. 

Hamlet.    What  man  dost  thou  dig  it  for  ? 

1st  G.  D.     For  no  man,  sir. 

Hamlet.    What  woman,  then  ? 

1st  G.  D.    For  none,  neither. 

Hamlet.     Who  is  to  be  buried  in't? 

1st  G.  D.  One  that  was  a  woman,  sir ;  but,  rest  her  soul, 
she's  dead. 

Hamlet.  How  absolute  the  knave  is !  We  must  speak  by 
the  card,  or  equivocation  will  undo  us.  How  long  hast  thou 
been  a  grave-maker? 

1st.  G.  D.  Of  all  the  days  i'  the  year,  I  came  to't  that 
day  that  our  last  king  Hamlet  overcame  Fortinbras. 

Hamlet.    How  long  is  that  since  ? 

1st  G.  D.  Can  not  you  tell  that?  every  fool  can  tell  that. 
It  was  the  very  day  that  young  Hamlet  was  born;  he  that 
is  mad,  and  sent  into  England. 

Hamlet.    Ay,  marry;  why  was  he  sent  into  England? 


378  HOW  TO  SPEAK  IN  PUBLIC 

1st  G.  D.  Why,  because  he  was  niad:  he  shall  recover 
his  wits  there;  or  if  he  do  not,  'tis  no  great  matter  there. 

Hamlet.      Why? 

1st  G.  D.  'Twill  not  be  seen  in  him  there;  there  the 
men  are  as  mad  as  he. 

Hamlet.     How  came  he  mad? 

1st  G.  D.     Very  strangely,  they  say. 

Hamlet.     How  strangely? 

1st  G.  D.     'Faith,  e  'en  with  losing  his  wits. 

Hamlet.     Upon  what  ground? 

1st  G.  D.  Why,  here  in  Denmark.  I  have  been  sexton 
here,  man  and  boy,  thirty  years. 

Hamlet.     How  long  will  a  man  lie  i'  the  earth  ere  he  rot? 

1st  G.  D.  'Faith,  if  he  be  not  rotten  before  he  die,  he 
will  last  you  some  eight  year  or  nine  year:  a  tanner  will 
last  you  nine  year.  Here's  a  skull  now;  this  skull  hath 
lain  i'  the  earth  three-and- twenty  years. 

Hamlet.    Whose  was  it? 

1st  G.  D.  A  mad  fellow's  it  was:  Whose  do  you  think 
it  was? 

Hamlet.    Nay,  I  know  not. 

1st  G.  D.  A  pestilence  on  him  for  a  mad  rogue!  a' 
poured  a  flagon  of  Rhenish  on  my  head  once.  This  same 
skull,  sir,  was  Yorick's  skull,  the  king's  jester. 

Hamlet.     This? 

1st  G.  D.     E'en  that. 

Hamlet.  Let  me  see.  [Takes  the  skull.]  Alas,  poor 
Yorick!  I  knew  him,  Horatio:  a  fellow  of  infinite  jest, 
of  most  excellent  fancy:  he  hath  borne  me  on  his  back 
a  thousand  times;  and  now,  how  abhorred  in  my  imagina- 
tion it  is !  my  gorge  rises  at  it.  Here  hung  those  lips,  that 
I  have  kissed  I  know  not  how  oft.  Where  be  your  gibes 


SELECTIONS  FOR  PRACTISE  379 

now?  your  gambols?  your  songs?  your  flashes  of  merri- 
ment that  were  wont  to  set  the  table  on  a  roar?  Not  one 
now  to  mock  your  own  grinning  ?  quite  chap-fallen  ?  Now, 
get  you  to  my  lady's  chamber,  and  tell  her,  let  her  paint 
an  inch  thick,  to  this  favor  she  must  come ;  make  her  laugh 
at  that.  Pr'ythee,  Horatio,  tell  me  one  thing. 

Hora.     What's  that,  my  lord? 

Hamlet.  Dost  thou  think  Alexander  looked  o'  this  fash- 
ion i'  the  earth? 

Hora.     E'en  so. 

Hamlet.     And  smelt  so?  pah! 

Hora.     E'en  so,  my  lord. 

[Takes  and  puts  down  the  skull. 

Hamlet.  To  what  base  uses  we  may  return,  Horatio! 
Why  may  not  imagination  trace  the  noble  dust  of  Alex- 
ander, till  he  find  it  stopping  a  bung-hole! 

Hora.     'Twere  to  consider  too  curiously,  to  consider  so. 

Hamlet.  No,  faith,  not  a  jot;  but  to  follow  him  thither 
with  modesty  enough,  and  likelihood  to  lead  it;  as  thus: 
Alexander  died,  Alexander  was  buried,  Alexander  returneth 
into  dust;  the  dust  is  earth;  of  earth  we  make  loam:  and 
why  of  that  loam,  whereto  he  was  converted,  might  they 
not  stop  a  beer-barrel  ? 

Imperious  Caesar,  dead,  and  turn'd  to  clay, 
Might  stop  a  hole  to  keep  the  wind  away: 
0 !  that  that  earth,  which  kept  the  world  in  awe, 
Should  patch  a  wall  t'  expel  the  winter's  flaw ! 


380  HOW  TO  SPEAK  IN  PUBLIC 

OTHELLO 

ACT  I,  SCENE  3 — OTHELLO  ON  HIS  MARRIAGE 
SCENE:   The  Council-chamber  at  Venice. 

Oth.     Most  potent,  grave  and  reverend  signiors, 
My  very  noble  and  approv'd  good  masters, 
That  I  have  ta'en  away  this  old  man's  daughter, 
It  is  most  true;  true,  I  have  married  her; 
The  very  head  and  front  of  my  offending 
Hath  this  extent,  no  more.    Rude  am  I  in  my  speech, 
And  little  bless  'd  with  the  soft  phrase  of  peace ; 
For  since  these  arms  of  mine  had  seven  years'  pith, 
Till  now  some  nine  moons  wasted,  they  have  us'd 
Their  dearest  action  in  the  tented  field; 
And  little  of  this  great  world  can  I  speak, 
More  than  pertains  to  feats  of  broil  and  battle, 
And  therefore  little  shall  I  grace  my  cause 
In   speaking  for  myself.     Yet,   by  your   gracious 

patience, 

I  will  a  round  un varnish  'd  tale  deliver 
Of  my  whole  course  of  love;    what  drugs,  what 

charms, 

What  conjuration  and  what  mighty  magic, 
For  such  proceeding  I  am  charg'd  withal, 
I  won  his  daughter. 

Bra.  A  maiden  never  bold ; 

Of  spirit  so  still  and  quiet,  that  her  motion 
Blush 'd  at  herself;  I  therefore  vouch  again 
That  with  some  mixtures  powerful  o'er  the  blood, 


SELECTIONS  FOR  PRACTISE  381 

Or  with  some  dram  conjur'd  to  this  effect, 
He  wrought  upon  her. 

Duke.  To  vouch  this,  is  no  proof, 

Without  more  wider  and  more  overt  test 
Than  these  thin  habits  and  poor  likelihoods 
Of  modern  seeming  do  prefer  against  him. 

Sen.     But,  Othello,  speak: 

Did  you  by  indirect  and  forced  courses 
Subdue  and  poison  this  young  maid's  affections? 
Or  came  it  by  request  and  such  fair  question 
As  soul  to  soul  affordeth? 

Oth.  -I  do  beseech  you, 

Send  for  the  lady  to  the  Sagittary, 
And  let  her  speak  of  me  before  her  father; 
If  you  do  find  me  foul  in  her  report, 
The  trust,  the  office  I  do  hold  of  you, 
Not  only  take  away,  but  let  your  sentence 
Even  fall  upon  my  life. 
And,  till  she  come,  as  truly  as  to  heaven, 
I  do  confess  the  vices  of  my  blood, 
So  justly  to  your  grave  ears  I'll  present 
How  I  did  thrive  in  this  fair  lady's  love, 
And  she  in  mine. 

Duke.  Say  it,  Othello. 

Oth.     Her  father  lov'd  me;  oft  invited  me; 

Still  question 'd  me  the  story  of  my  life, 
From  year  to  year,  the  battles,  sieges,  fortunes, 
That  I  have  pass'd. 

I  ran  it  through,  ev'n  from  my  boyish  days, 
To  the  very  moment  that  he  bade  me  tell  it; 
Wherein  I  spake  of  most  disastrous  chances, 
Of  moving  accidents  by  flood  and  field, 


382  HOW  TO  SPEAK  IN  PUBLIC 

Of    hairbreadth    'scapes    i'    the    imminent    deadly 

breach, 

Of  being  taken  by  the  insolent  foe 
And  sold  to  slavery;  of  my  redemption  thence 
And  portance  in  my  travels'  history; 
Wherein  of  antres  vast  and  deserts  idle, 
Rough  quarries,  rocks  and  hills  whose  heads  touch 

heaven, 

It  was  my  hint  to  speak, — such  was  the  process ; 
And  of  the  Cannibals  that  each  other  eat, 
The  Anthropophagi  and  men  whose  heads 
Do  grow  beneath  their  shoulders.     This  to  hear 
Would  Desdemona  seriously  incline; 
But  still  the  house-affairs  would  draw  her  thence; 
Which  ever  as  she  could  with  haste  despatch, 
She'd  come  again  and  with  a  greedy  ear 
Devour  up  my  discourse;  which  I  observing, 
Took  once  a  pliant  hour,  and  found  good  means 
To  draw  from  her  a  prayer  of  earnest  heart 
That  I  would  all  my  pilgrimage  dilate, 
Whereof  by  parcels  she  had  something  heard, 
But  not  intentively ;  I  did  consent, 
And  often  did  beguile  her  of  her  tears, 
When  I  did  speak  of  some  distressful  stroke 
That  my  youth  suffer 'd.    My  story  being  done, 
She  gave  me  for  my  pains  a  world  of  sighs ; 
She  swore,  in  faith,    'twas  strange,    'twas  passing 

strange, 

'Twas  pitiful,  'twas  wondrous  pitiful; 
She  wish'd  she  had  not  heard  it,  yet  she  wish'd 
That  heaven  had  made  her  such  a  man;  she  thank 'd 

me, 


SELECTIONS  FOR  PRACTISE  383 

And  bade  me,  if  I  had  a  friend  that  lov'd  her, 

I  should  but  teach  him  how  to  tell  my  story, 

And  that  would  woo  her.     Upon  this  hint  I  spake; 

She  lov'd  me  for  the  dangers  I  had  pass'd; 

And  I  lov'd  her  that  she  did  pity  them. 

This  only  is  the  witchcraft  I  have  used; 

Here  comes  the  lady ;  let  her  witness  it. 

Enter  DESDEMONA  and  ATTENDANTS. 

Bra.     Come  hither,  gentle  mistress; 

Do  you  perceive,  in  all  this  noble  company, 
Where  most  you  owe  obedience? 

Des.  My  noble  father, 

I  do  perceive  here  a  divided  duty; 
To  you  I  am  bound  for  life  and  education ; 
My  life  and  education  both  do  learn  me 
How  to  respect  you ;  you  are  the  lord  of  duty ; 
I  am  hitherto  your  daughter ;  but  here's  my  husband, 
And  so  much  duty  as  my  mother  showed 
To  you,  preferring  you  before  her  father, 
So  much  I  challenge  that  I  may  profess 
Due  to  the  Moor  my  lord. 

Bra.  God  be  with  you !    I  have  done. 


384  HOW  TO  SPEAK  IN  PUBLIC 

THE  SHIPWRECK 
BY   CHARLES   DICKENS 

On  a  late  September  night  the  sleeping  town  of  Yarmouth 
is  startled  by  the  cry : ' '  A  wreck  close  by ! "  ' '  What  wreck  ? ' ' 
"A  schooner,  from  Spain  or  Portugal,  laden  with  fruit  and 
wine.  It's  thought  down  on  the  beach  she'll  go  to  pieces 
any  moment!" 

Numbers  of  excited  people  are  to  be  seen,  all  running 
in  one  direction  toward  the  beach  and  now  an  im- 
mense crowd  stands  facing  the  wild  sea.  The  height  to 
which  the  breakers  rise,  and,  looking  over  one  another, 
bear  one  another  down,  and  roll  in,  in  interminable  hosts, 
is  most  appalling.  Suddenly  the  wreck  closes  in  toward 
the  shore.  One  mast  is  broken  off  six  or  eight  feet  from 
the  deck,  and  lay  over  the  side,  entangled  in  a  maze  of 
sail  and  rigging,  and  all  that  ruin,  as  the  ship  rolls  and 
beats — which  she  does  without  a  moment's  pause  and  with 
a  violence  quite  inconceivable — beats  the  side  as  if  it  would 
stave  it  in.  As  the  ship  turns  toward  the  shore  in  her 
rolling,  her  people  are  plainly  descried  at  work  with  axes, 
especially  one  active  figure  with  long  curling  hair,  conspic- 
uous among  the  rest.  But  a  great  cry,  which  is  audible 
even  above  the  wind  and  water,  rises  from  the  shore  at  this 
moment;  the  sea,  sweeping  over  the  rolling  wreck,  makes 
a  clean  breach,  and  carries  men,  spars,  casks,  planks,  bul- 
warks, heaps  of  such  toys,  into  the  boiling  surge.  The  sec- 
ond mast  is  still  standing,  with  the  rags  of  a  rent  sail  and 
a  wild  confusion  of  broken  cordage  flapping  to  and  fro. 

But  the  rolling  and  beating  is  too  tremendous  for  any 


SELECTIONS  FOR  PRACTISE  385 

human  work  to  suffer  long.  There  is  another  great  cry  of 
pity  from  the  beach;  four  men  rise  with  the  wreck  out  of 
the  deep,  clinging  to  the  rigging  of  the  remaining  mast; 
uppermost  the  active  figure  with  the  curling  hair.  There 
is  a  bell  on  board,  and  as  the  ship  rolls  and  dashes,  the 
bell  rings;  and  its  sound,  the  knell  of  those  unhappy  men, 
is  borne  to  those  standing  on  shore.  Again  the  ship  is  lost 
from  view, — now  she  rises  again.  Two  men  are  gone.  The 
agony  on  shore  increases.  Men  groan  and  clasp  their 
hands;  women  shriek  and  turn  away  their  faces.  Some 
run  wildly  up  and  down  along  the  beach,  crying  for  help 
where  no  help  can  be." 

And  now  a  new  sensation  moves  the  people  on  the 
beach,  and  as  they  part,  Ham  Peggotty  comes  breaking 
through  them  to  the  front.  Another  cry  arises  on 
shore,  and  looking  to  the  wreck  they  see  the  cruel  sail, 
with  blow  on  blow,  beat  off  the  lower  of  the  two  men  and 
fly  up  in  triumph  round  the  active  figure  left  alone  upon 
the  mast.  Ham  is  heard  to  cry :  "  Mates,  if  my  time  is  come, 
'tis  come.  If  'tain't,  I'll  bide  it.  Lord  above  bless  you  all ! 
Mates,  make  me  ready, — I  'm  a-going  for  the  wreck ! ' ' 

There  is  hurry  on  the  beach, — men  running  with  ropes 
from  a  capstan  that  is  there, — and  Ham  stands  out  alone  in 
a  seaman's  frock  and  trousers;  a  rope  in  his  hand,  another 
round  his  body,  and  several  of  the  best  men  holding  at 
a  little  distance  to  the  latter.  The  wreck  is  breaking  up. 
She  is  parting  in  the  middle  and  the  life  of  the  solitary  man 
upon  the  mast  hangs  by  a  thread.  Still  he  clings  to  it. 
He  has  a  singular  red  cap  on — not  like  a  sailor's  cap,  but 
of  a  finer  color;  and  as  the  few  yielding  planks  between 
him  and  destruction  roll  and  bulge,  and  his  anticipative 
death-knell  rings,  he  is  seen  to  wave  it. 


386  HOW  TO  SPEAK  IN  PUBLIC 

Ham  watches  the  sea,  standing  alone,  with  the  silence 
of  suspended  breath  behind  him,  and  the  storm  before, 
until  there  is  a  great  retiring  wave,  when,  with  a  back- 
ward glance  at  those  who  hold  the  rope  which  is  made  fast 
round  his  body,  he  dashes  in  after  it  and  in  a  moment  is 
buffeting  with  the  water ; .  rising  with  the  hills,  falling  with 
the  valleys,  lost  beneath  the  rugged  foam, — borne  in  toward 
the  shore, — borne  on  toward  the  ship, — striving  hard  and 
valiantly.  The  distance  is  nothing,  but  the  power  of  the 
sea  and  wind  makes  the  strife  deadly.  At  length  he  nears 
the  wreck.  He  is  so  near  that  with  one  of  his  vigorous 
strokes  he  will  be  clinging  to  it — when  a  high,  green,  vast 
hillside  of  water,  moving  on  shoreward,  from  beyond  the 
ship,  seems  to  leap  up  into  it  with  a  mighty  bound,  and 
the  ship  is  gone!  They  haul  in  hastily,  but  consternation 
is  seen  in  every  face — for  there  at  their  feet  lies  poor  old 
Ham — dead!  He  had  been  beaten  to  death  by  the  great 
wave  and  his  generous  heart  was  stilled  forever.  And  as 
they  bend  compassionately  over  the  form  of  their  brave 
young  comrade,  another  body  is  washed  ashore — that  of 
the  solitary  figure  which  had  been  seen  alone  upon  the  mast, 
— and  there  next  to  him  whom  he  had  so  unjustly  wronged, 
lay  the  dead  body  of  James  Steerf orth ! 


COMO 
BY  JOAQUIN  MILLER 

The  red-clad  fishers  row  and  creep 
Below  the  crags,  as  half  asleep, 
Nor  even  make  a  single  sound. 
The  walls  are  steep, 
The  waves  are  deep; 


SELECTIONS  FOR  PRACTISE  387 

And  if  the  dead  man  should  be  found 

By  these  fishers  in  their  round, 

Why,  who  shall  say  but  he  was  drowned? 

The  lake  lay  bright,  as  bits  of  broken  moon 

Just  newly  set  within  the  cloven  earth; 

The  ripened  fields  drew  round  a  golden  girth 

Far  up  the  steppes,  and  glittered  in  the  noon. 

And  when  the  sun  fell  down,  from  leafy  shore 

Fond  lovers  stole  in  pairs  to  ply  the  oar. 

The  stars,  as  large  as  lilies,  flecked  the  blue; 

From  out  the  Alps  the  moon  came  wheeling  through 

This  rocky  pass  the  great  Napoleon  knew. 

A  gala  night  it  was — the  season 's  prime ; 

We  rode  from  castled  lake  to  festal  town, 

To  fair  Milan — my  friend  and  I;  rode  down 

By  night,  where  grasses  waved  in  rippled  rhyme; 

And  so  what  theme  but  love  in  such  a  time? 

His  proud  lip  curved  the  while  in  silent  scorn 

At  thought  of  love;  and  then,  as  one  forlorn, 

He  sighed,  then  bared  his  temples,  dashed  with  gray, 

Then  mocked,  as  one  outworn  and  well  blase. 

A  gorgeous  tiger-lily,  flaming  red, 

So  full  of  battle,  of  the  trumpet's  blare, 

Of  old-time  passion,  upreared  its  head. 

I  galloped  past,  I  leaned,  I  clutched  it  there. 

From  out  the  long  strong  grass  I  held  it  high, 

And  cried  "Lo!  this  to-night  shall  deck  her  hair 

Through  all  the  dance.    And  mark !  the  man  shall  die 

Who  dares  assault,  for  good  or  ill  design, 

The  citadel  where  I  shall  set  this  sign." 


388  HOW  TO  SPEAK  IN  PUBLIC 

He  spoke  no  spare  word  all  the  after  while. 
That  scornful,  cold,  contemptuous  smile  of  his! 
Why,  better  men  have  died  for  less  than  this. 
Then  in  the  hall  the  same  old  hateful  smile ! 
Then  marvel  not  that  when  she  graced  the  floor, 
With  all  the  beauties  gathered  from  the  four 
Far  quarters  of  the  world,  and  she,  my  fair, 
The  fairest,  wore  within  her  midnight  hair 
My  tiger-lily — marvel  not,  I  say, 
That  he  glared  like  some  wild  beast  well  at  bay ! 

Oh,  she  shone  fairer  than  the  summer  star, 

Or  curled  sweet  moon  in  middle  destiny. 

More  fair  than  sunrise  climbing  up  the  sea, 

Where  all  the  loves  of  Ariadne  are. 

Who  loves,  who  truly  loves,  will  stand  aloof, 

The  noisy  tongue  makes  most  unholy  proof 

Of  shallow  waters, — all  the  while  afar 

From  out  the  dance  I  stood,  and  watched  my  star, 

My  tiger-lily,  borne  an  oriflamme  of  war. 

A  thousand  beauties  flashed  at  love's  advance; 
Like  bright  white  mice  at  moonlight  in  their  play, 
Or  sunfish  shooting  in  the  shining  bay, 
The  swift  feet  shot  and  glittered  in  the  dance. 
Oh,  have  you  loved,  and  truly  loved,  and  seen 
Aught  else  the  while  than  your  own  stately  queen? 
Her  presence,  it  was  majesty — so  tall; 
Her  proud  development  encompassed — all. 
She  filled  all  space.    I  sought,  I  saw  but  her. 
I  followed  as  some  fervid  worshiper. 


SELECTIONS  FOR  PRACTISE  389 

Adown  the  dance  she  moved  with  matchless  pace. 

The  world — my  world — moved  with  her.    Suddenly 

I  questioned  whom  her  cavalier  might  be. 

'Twas  he !    His  face  was  leaning  to  her  face ! 

I  clutched  my  blade;  I  sprang;  I  caught  my  breath, 

And  so  stood  leaning  still  as  death. 

And  they  stood  still.     She  blushed,  then  reached  and  tore 

The  lily  as  she  passed,  and  down  the  floor 

She  strewed  its  heart  like  bits  of  gushing  gore. 


'Twas  he  said  heads,  not  hearts,  were  made  to  break. 

He  taught  me  this  that  night  in  splendid  scorn. 

I  learned  too  well.    The  dance  was  done.    Ere  morn 

We  mounted — he  and  I — but  no  more  spake. 

And  this  for  woman 's  love !    My  lily  worn 

In  her  dark  hair  in  pride  to  be  thus  torn 

And  trampled  on  for  this  bold  stranger 's  sake ! 

Two  men  rode  silent  back  toward  the  lake. 

Two  men  rode  silent  down,  but  only  one 

Rode  up  at  morn  to  greet  the  rising  sun. 


The  walls  are  steep, 

The  waves  are  deep ; 

And  if  the  dead  man  should  be  found 

By  red-clad  fishers  in  their  round, 

Why,  who  shall  say  but  he  was — drowned? 


390  HOW  TO  SPEAK  IN  PUBLIC 

THE  REVENGE 
BY  ALFRED,   LORD   TENNYSON 

At  Flores  in  the  Azores  Sir  Richard  Grenville  lay, 

And  a  pinnace,  like  a  flutter 'd  bird,  came  flying  from  far 

away: 

"Spanish  ships  of  war  at  sea !  we  have  sighted  fif ty- three !" 
Then  sware  Lord  Thomas  Howard:  "  'Fore  God  I  am  no 

coward ; 

But  I  cannot  meet  them  here,  for  my  ships  are  out  of  gear, 
And  the  half  my  men  are  sick.  I  must  fly,  but  follow  quick. 
We  are  six  ships  of  the  line;  can  we  fight  with  fifty- three?" 

Then  spake  Sir  Richard  Grenville:  "I  know  you  are  no 

coward ; 

You  fly  them  for  a  moment  to  fight  with  them  again. 
But  I've  ninety  men  and  more  that  are  lying  sick  ashore. 
I  should  count  myself  the  coward  if  I  left  them,  my  Lord 

Howard, 
To  these  Inquisition  dogs  and  the  devildoms  of  Spain." 

So  Lord  Howard  past  away  with  five  ships  of  war  that  day, 
Till  he  melted  like  a  cloud  in  the  silent  summer  heaven; 
But  Sir  Richard  bore  in  hand  all  his  sick  men  from  the 

land 

Very  carefully  and  slow, 
Men  of  Bideford  in  Devon, 
And  we  laid  them  on  the  ballast  down  below; 
For  we  brought  them  all  aboard, 


SELECTIONS  FOR  PRACTISE  391 

And  they  blest  him  in  their  pain,  that  they  were  not  left 

to  Spain, 
To  the  thumbscrew  and  the  stake,  for  the  glory  of  the  Lord. 

He  had  only  a  hundred  seamen  to  work  the  ship  and  to 

fight, 
And  he  sailed  away  from  Flores  till  the  Spaniard  came  in 

sight, 

With  his  huge  sea-castles  heaving  upon  the  weather  bow. 
4 'Shall  we  fight  or  shall  we  fly? 
Good  Sir  Richard,  tell  us  now, 
For  to  fight  is  but  to  die! 

There'll  be  little  of  us  left  by  the  time  this  sun  be  set." 
And  Sir  Richard  said  again :  ' '  We  be  all  good  English  men. 
Let  us  bang  these  dogs  of  Seville,  the  children  of  the  devil, 
For  I  never  turn'd  my  back  upon  Don  or  devil  yet." 

Sir  Richard  spoke  and  he  laugh 'd,  and  we  roar'd  a  hurrah, 

and  so 

The  little  Revenge  ran  on  sheer  into  the  heart  of  the  foe, 
With  her  hundred  fighters  on  deck,  and  her  ninety  sick 

below ; 
For  half  of  their  fleet  to  the  right  and  half  to  the  left 

were  seen, 
And  the  little  Revenge  ran  on  thro'   the  long  sea-lane 

between. 


Thousands  of  their  soldiers  look'd  down  from  their  decks 

and  laugh 'd, 
Thousands  of  their  seamen  made  mock  at  the  mad  little 

craft 


392  HOW  TO  SPEAK  IN  PUBLIC 

Running  on  and  on,  till  delay 'd 

By  their  mountain-like  San  Philip  that,  of  fifteen  hundred 

tons, 
And  upshadowing  high  above  us  with  her  yawning  tiers 

of  guns, 
Took  the  breath  from  our  sails,  and  we  stay'd. 


And  while  now  the  great  San  Philip  hung  above  us  like 

a  cloud 

Whence  the  thunderbolt  will  fall 
Long  and  loud, 
Four  galleons  drew  away 
From  the  Spanish  fleet  that  day, 

And  two  upon  the  larboard  and  two  upon  the  starboard  lay, 
And  the  battle-thunder  broke  from  them  all. 


And  the  sun  went  down,  and  the  stars  came  out  far  over 
the  summer  sea, 

But  never  a  moment  ceased  the  fight  of  the  one  and  the 
fifty-three. 

Ship  after  ship,  the  whole  night  long,  their  high-built  gal- 
leons came, 

Ship  after  ship,  the  whole  night  long,  with  her  battle-thun- 
der and  flame; 

Ship  after  ship,  the  whole  night  long,  drew  back  with  her 
dead  and  her  shame. 

For  some  were  sunk  and  many  were  shatter 'd,  and  so  could 
fight  us  no  more — 

God  of  battles,  was  ever  a  battle  like  this  in  the  world 
before  ? 


SELECTIONS  FOR  PRACTISE  393 

For  he  said  " Fight  on!  fight  on!" 
Tho'  his  vessel  was  all  but  a  wreck; 
And  it  chanced  that,  when  half  of  the  short  summer  night 

was  gone, 

With  a  grisly  wound  to  be  drest  he  had  left  the  deck, 
But  a  bullet  struck  him  that  was  dressing  it  suddenly  dead, 
And  himself  he  was  wounded  again  in  the  side  and  the  head, 
And  he  said  " Fight  on!  fight  on!" 

And  the  night  went  down,  and  the  sun  smiled  out  far  over 

the  summer  sea, 
And  the  Spanish  fleet  with  broken  sides  lay  round  us  all 

in  a  ring; 
But  they  dared  not  touch  us  again,  for  they  fear'd  that  we 

still  could  sting, 

So  they  watch 'd  what  the  end  would  be. 

And  we  had  not  fought  them  in  vain, 

But  in  perilous  plight  were  we, 

Seeing  forty  of  our  poor  hundred  were  slain, 

And  half  of  the  rest  of  us  maim'd  for  life 

In  the  crash  of  the  cannonades  and  the  desperate  strife; 

And  the  sick  men  down  in  the  hold  were  most  of  them  stark 

and  cold, 
And  the  pikes  were  all  broken  or  bent  and  the  powder  was 

all  of  it  spent ; 

And  the  masts  and  the  rigging  were  lying  over  the  side; 
But  Sir  Richard  cried  in  his  English  pride, 
"We  have  fought  such  a  fight  for  a  day  and  a  night 
As  may  never  be  fought  again ! 
We  have  won  great  glory,  my  men! 


394  HOW  TO  SPEAK  IN  PUBLIC 

And  a  day  less  or  more 

At  sea  or  ashore, 

We  die — does  it  matter  when? 

Sink  me  the  ship,  Master  Gunner — sink  her,  split  her  in 

twain ! 
Fall  into  the  hands  of  God,  not  into  the  hands  "of  Spain!" 

And  the  gunner  said  "Ay,  ay,"  but  the  seamen  made 

reply : 

"We  have  children,  we  have  wives, 
And  the  Lord  hath  spared  our  lives. 
We  will  make  the  Spaniards  promise,  if  we  yield,  to  let 

us  go; 

We  shall  live  to  fight  again  and  to  strike  another  blow!" 
And  the  lion  there  lay  dying,  and  they  yielded  to  the  foe. 

And  the  stately  Spanish  men  to  their  flagship  bore  him 

then, 
Where  they  laid  him  by  the  mast,  old  Sir  Richard  caught 

at  last, 
And  they  praised  him  to  his  face  with  their  courtly  foreign 

grace ; 

But  he  rose  upon  their  decks,  and  he  cried: 
' '  I  have  fought  for  Queen  and  Faith  like  a  valiant  man  and 

true; 

I  have  only  done  my  duty  as  a  man  is  bound  to  do: 
With  a  joyful  spirit  I,  Sir  Richard  Grenville,  die!" 
And  he  fell  upon  their  decks,  and  he  died. 

And  they  stared  at  the  dead  that  had  been  so  valiant  and 

true, 
And  had  hoi  den  the  power  and  glory  of  Spain  so  cheap 


SELECTIONS  FOR  PRACTISE  395 

That  he  dared  her  with  one  little  ship  and  his  English  few ; 
Was  he  devil  or  man?  He  was  devil  for  aught  they  knew, 
But  they  sank  his  body  with  honor  down  into  the  deep, 
And  they  mann'd  the  Revenge  with  a  swarthier  alien  crew, 
And  away  she  sail  'd  with  her  loss  and  long  'd  for  her  own ; 
When  a  wind  from  the  lands  they  had  ruin'd  awoke  from 

sleep, 

And  the  water  began  to  heave  and  the  weather  to  moan, 
And  or  ever  that  evening  ended  a  great  gale  blew, 
And  a  wave  like  the  wave  that  is  raised  by  an  earthquake 

grew, 
Till  it  smote  on  their  hulls  and  their  sails  and  their  masts 

and  their  flags, 
And  the  whole  sea  plunged  and  fell  on  the  shot-shatter 'd 

navy  of  Spain, 
And  the  little  Revenge  herself  went  down  by  the  island 

crags 
To  be  lost  evermore  in  the  main. 


MAGDALENA;  OR,  THE  SPANISH  DUEL 
BY  J.   F.   WALLER 

Near  the  city  of  Sevilla, 

Years  and  years  ago — 
Dwelt  a  lady  in  a  villa 

Years  and  years  ago; — 
And  her  hair  was  black  as  night, 
And  her  eyes  were  starry  bright; 
Olives  on  her  brow  were  blooming, 
Roses  red  her  lips  perfuming, 


396  HOW  TO  SPEAK  IN  PUBLIC 

And  her  step  was  light  and  airy 

As  the  tripping  of  a  fairy; 

When  she  spoke,  you  thought  each  minute, 

'Twas  the  trilling  of  a  linnet; 

When  she  sang,  you  heard  a  gush 

Of  full- voiced  sweetness  like  a  thrush; 

And  she  struck  from  the  guitar 

Ringing  music,  sweeter  far 

Than  the  morning  breezes  make 

Through  the  lime  trees  when  they  shake — * 

Than  the  ocean  murmuring  o'er 

Pebbles  on  the  foamy  shore. 

Orphaned  both  of  sire  and  mother 

Dwelt  she  in  that  lonely  villa, 
Absent  now  her  guardian  brother 

On  a  mission  from  Sevilla. 
Skills  it  little  now  the  telling 

How  I  wooed  that  maiden  fair, 
Tracked  her  to  her  lonely  dwelling 

And  obtained  an  entrance  there. 
Ah !  that  lady  of  the  villa ! 

And  I  loved  her  so, 
Near  the  city  of  Sevilla, 

Years  and  years  ago. 

'Twas  an  autumn  eve;  the  splendor 

Of  the  day  was  gone, 
And  the  twilight,  soft  and  tender, 

Stole  so  gently  on 
That  the  eye  could  scarce  discover 
How  the  shadows,  spreading  over, 

Like  a  veil  of  silver  gray, 


SELECTIONS  FOR  PRACTISE  397 

Toned  the  golden  clouds,  sun-painted, 
Till  they  paled,  and  paled,  and  fainted 

From  the  face  of  heaven  away. 
And  a  dim  light  rising  slowly 

O'er  the  welkin  spread, 
Till  the  blue  sky,  calm  and  holy, 

Gleamed  above  our  head. 

Seated  half  within  a  bower 

Where  the  languid  evening  breeze 
Shook  out  odors  in  a  shower 

From  oranges  and  citron  trees, 

Sang  she  from  a  romancero, 

How  a  Moorish  chieftain  bold 
Fought  a  Spanish  caballero 

By  Sevilla's  walls  of  old. 

How  they  battled  for  a  lady, 

Fairest  of  the  maids  of  Spain — 
How  the  Christian's  lance,  so  steady, 

Pierced  the  Moslem  through  the  brain. 

Then  she  ceased — her  black  eyes  moving, 
Flashed,  as  asked  she  with  a  smile, — 

"Say,  are  maids  as  fair  and  loving — 
Men  as  faithful,  in  your  isle?" 

"British  maids,"  I  said,  "are  ever 

Counted  fairest  of  the  fair ; 
Like  the  swans  on  yonder  river 

Moving  with  a  stately  air. 


398  HOW  TO  SPEAK  IN  PUBLIC 

"  Wooed  not  quickly,  won  not  lightly — 
But,  when  won,  forever  true; 

Trial  draws  the  bond  more  tightly, 
Time  can  ne  'er  the  knot  undo. ' ' 

"And  the  men?"— "Ah!  dearest  lady, 

Are — quien  sabe?  who  can  say? 
To  make  love  they're  ever  ready, 
\      When  they  can  and  where  they  may; 

"Fixed  as  waves,  as  breezes  steady 
In  a  changeful  April  day — 

Como  brisas,  como  rios, 
No  se  sabe,  sabe  Dios." 

"Are  they  faithful?"— "Ah!  quien  sabe? 

Who  can  answer  that  they  are? 
While  we  may  we  should  be  happy." — 

Then  I  took  up  her  guitar, 
And  I  sang  in  sportive  strain, 
A  song  to  an  old  air  of  Spain. 


As  I  sang  the  lady  listened, 
Silent  save  one  gentle  sigh ; 

When  I  ceased,  a  tear-drop  glistened 
On  the  dark  fringe  of  her  eye. 

Then  my  heart  reproved  the  feeling 
Of  that  false  and  heartless  strain 

Which  I  sang  in  words  concealing 
What  my  heart  would  hide  in  vain. 


SELECTIONS  FOR  PRACTISE  399 

Up  I  sprang.    "What  words  were  uttered 

Bootless  now  to  think  or  tell — 
Tongues  speak  wild  when  hearts  are  fluttered 

By  the  mighty  master  spell. 


Love,  avowed  with  sudden  boldness, 
Heard  with  flushings  that  reveal, 

Spite  of  woman's  studied  coldness, 
Thoughts  the  heart  cannot  conceal. 

"Magdalena,  dearest,  hear  me," 
Sighed  I,  as  I  seized  her  hand — 

'  i  Hola !  Senor, ' '  very  near  me, 
Cries  a  voice  of  stern  command. 


And  a  stalwart  caballero 

Comes  upon  me  with  a  stride, 

On  his  head  a  slouched  sombrero, 
A  toledo  by  his  side. 

From  his  breast  he  flung  his  capa 
With  a  stately  Spanish  air — 

(On  the  whole,  he  looked  the  chap  a 
Man  to  slight  would  scarcely  dare.) 


"Will  your  worship  have  the  goodness 
To  release  that  lady's  hand?" — 

"Senor,"  I  replied,  "this  rudeness 
I  am  not  prepared  to  stand. 


400  HOW  TO  SPEAK  IN  PUBLIC 

"Magdalena,  say" — the  maiden, 
With  a  cry  of  wild  surprise, 

As  with  secret  sorrow  laden, 
Fainting  sank  before  my  eyes. 

Then  the  Spanish  caballero 
Bowed  with  haughty  courtesy, 

Solemn  as  a  tragic  hero, 
And  announced  himself  to  me. 

'  *  Senor,  I  am  Don  Camillo 

Guzman  Miguel  Pedrillo 

De  Xymenes  y  Ribera 

Y  Santallos  y  Herrera 

Y  de  Rivas  y  Mendoza 

Y  Quintana  y  de  Rosa 

Y  Zorilla  y— "  "No  more,  sir, 

"Pis  as  good  as  twenty  score,  sir," 
Said  I  to  him,  with  a  frown; 

"Mucha  bulla  para  nada, 

No  palabras,  draw  your  'spada ; 

If  you're  up  for  a  duelo 

You  will  find  I  'm  just  your  fellow — 
Senor,  I  am  PETER  BROWN!" 

By  the  river's  bank  that  night, 
Foot  to  foot  in  strife, 

Fought  we  in  the  dubious  light 
A  fight  of  death  or  life. 

Don  Camillo  slashed  my  shoulder, 

With  the  pain  I  grew  the  bolder, 
Close,  and  closer  still  I  pressed ; 


SELECTIONS  FOR  PRACTISE  401 

Fortune  favored  me  at  last, 

I  broke  his  guard,  my  weapon  passed 

Through  the  caballero's  breast — 
Down  to  the  earth  went  Don  Camillo 
Guzman  Miguel  Pedrillo 
De  Ximenes  y  Ribera 
Y  Santallos  y  Herrera 
Y  de  Rivas  y  Mendoza 
Y  Quintana  y  de  Rosa 

Y  Zorilla  y — One  groan, 
And  he  lay  motionless  as  stone. 
The  man  of  many  names  went  down, 
Pierced  by  the  sword  of  PETER  BROWN  ! 

Kneeling  down,  I  raised  his  head ; 

The  caballero  faintly  said, 

' '  Signor  Ingles,  fly  from  Spain 

With  all  speed,  for  you  have  slain 

A  Spanish  noble,  Don  Camillo 

Guzman  Miguel  Pedrillo 

De  Ximenes  y  Ribera 

Y  Santallos  y  Herrera 

Y  de  Rivas  y  Mendoza 

Y  Quintana  y  de  Rosa 

Y  Zorilla  y — "  He  swooned 

With  the  bleeding  from  his  wound. 

If  he  be  living  still,  or  dead, 

I  never  knew ;  I  ne  'er  shall  know. 
That  night  from  Spain  in  haste  I  fled, 

Years  and  years  ago. 


402  HOW  TO  SPEAK  IN  PUBLIC 

JEAN  VALJEAN  THE  CONVICT 
BY   VICTOR   HUGO 

One  evening  in  the  beginning  of  October,  1815,  the  Bishop 
of  D —  had  remained  in  his  bedroom  until  a  late  hour. 
At  eight  o'clock,  feeling  that  supper  was  ready,  and  that 
his  sister  might  be  waiting,  he  closed  his  book,  rose  from  the 
table  and  walked  into  the  dining-room. 

There  was  a  loud  rap  at  the  front  door.  "Come  in," 
said  the  Bishop.  A  man  entered  and  stopped ;  the  firelight 
fell  on  him;  he  was  hideous.  It  was  a  sinister  apparition. 

"My  name  is  Jean  Valjean.  I  am  a  galley-slave,  and 
have  spent  nineteen  years  in  the  bagne.  I  was  liberated 
four  days  ago,  and  to-day  I  have  marched  twelve  leagues. 
On  coming  into  the  town  I  went  to  the  inn,  but  was  sent 
away  in  consequence  of  my  yellow  passport.  I  went  to 
another  inn,  and  the  landlord  said  to  me,  'Be  off!'  I 
went  to  the  prison  and  the  jailer  would  not  take  me  in. 
I  got  into  a  dog's  kennel,  but  the  dog  bit  me  and  drove  me 
off.  I  went  in  the  fields  to  sleep  in  the  starlight,  but  there 
were  no  stars.  I  thought  it  would  rain  and,  as  there  was 
no  God  to  prevent  it  from  raining,  I  came  back  to  town 
to  sleep  in  a  doorway.  A  good  woman  pointed  to  your 
house  and  said,  'Go  and  knock  there.'  I  have  money,  one 
hundred  francs,  fifteen  sous,  which  I  have  earned  by  my 
nineteen  years'  toil.  I  will  pay.  I  am  very  tired  and  fright- 
fully hungry;  will  you  let  me  stay?" 

"Madame  Magloire,  you  will  lay  another  plate,  knife 
and  fork." 

'  *  Wait  a  minute ;  that  will  not  do.  Did  you  not  hear  me 
say  that  I  was  a  galley-slave,  a  convict,  and  had  just  come 


SELECTIONS  FOR  PRACTISE  403 

from  the  bagne  ?  Here  is  my  passport,  which  turns  me  out 
wherever  I  go:  'Jean  Valjean,  a  liberated  convict,  has 
remained  nineteen  years  at  the  galleys, — five  years  for 
robbing  with  housebreaking,  fourteen  years  for  trying  to 
escape  four  times.  The  man  is  very  dangerous/  All  the 
world  has  turned  me  out;  will  you  give  me  some  food  and 
a  bed?  Have  you  a  stable?" 

"Madame  Magloire,  you  will  put  clean  sheets  on  the  bed 
in  the  alcove.  Sit  down  and  warm  yourself,  sir.  We  shall 
sup  directly,  and  your  bed  will  be  got  ready  while  we  are 
supping." 

"  Is  it  true  ?  What  ?  You  will  let  me  stay ;  you  will  not 
turn  me  out — a  convict  ?  You  call  me, '  Sir ' !  I  really  believed 
you  would  turn  me  out,  and  hence  told  you  at  once  who 
I  am.  I  shall  have  supper;  a  bed  with  mattresses  and 
sheets  like  anybody  else!  For  nineteen  years  I  have  not 
slept  in  a  bed.  What  is  your  name,  Mr.  Landlord?" 

"I  am  a  priest  living  in  this  house." 

"A  priest!  oh,  what  a  worthy  priest!  Then  you  do  not 
want  me  to  pay?" 

"No,  keep  your  money.  How  long  did  you  take  earning 
these  one  hundred  francs?" 

' '  Nineteen  years. ' ' 

*  *  Nineteen  years ! ' '    The  Bishop  gave  a  deep  sigh. 

Madame  Magloire  came  in  bringing  a  silver  spoon  and 
fork,  which  she  placed  on  the  table. 

"Madame  Magloire,  lay  them  as  near  as  you  can  to  the 
fire.  The  night  breeze  is  sharp  on  the  Alps,  and  you  must 
be  cold,  sir." 

Each  time  he  said  "sir"  in  his  gentle,  grave  voice  the 
man's  face  was  illumined.  "Sir"  to  a  convict  is  the  glass  of 
water  to  the  shipwrecked  sailor.  Ignominy  thirsts  for  respect. 


404  HOW  TO  SPEAK  IN  PUBLIC 

"This  lamp  gives  a  very  bad  light."  Madame  Magloire 
understood  and  fetched  from  the  chimney  of  Monseigneur's 
bedroom  two  silver  candlesticks,  which  she  placed  on  the 
table  ready  lighted. 

"Monsieur  le  Cure,  you  receive  me  as  a  friend  and  light 
your  wax  candles  for  me,  and  yet  I  have  not  hidden  from 
you  whence  I  come. ' ' 

The  Bishop  gently  touched  his  hand. 

"You  need  not  have  told  me  who  you  are ;  this  is  not  my 
house  but  the  house  of  Christ.  This  door  does  not  ask  a 
man  whether  he  has  a  name,  but  if  he  has  sorrow.  You 
are  suffering,  you  are  hungering  and  thirsting,  and  so  be 
welcome.  And  do  not  thank  me  nor  say  that  I  am  re- 
ceiving you  in  my  house,  for  no  one  is  at  home  here  ex- 
cepting the  man  who  is  in  need  of  an  asylum.  I  tell  you 
who  are  a  passer-by,  that  you  are  more  at  home  than  I  am 
myself.  Why  do  I  want  to  know  your  name?  Besides, 
before  you  told  it  to  me,  you  had  one  which  I  knew." 

"Is  that  true?    You  know  my  name?" 

"Yes,  you  are  my  brother — you  have  suffered  greatly?" 

"Oh,  the  red  jacket,  the  cannon  ball  on  your  foot,  a  plank 
to  sleep  on,  heat,  cold,  the  set  of  men,  the  blows,  the  double 
chain  for  nothing,  a  dungeon  for  a  word,  even  when  you 
are  ill  in  bed,  and  the  chain-gang !  The  very  dogs  are  hap- 
pier. Nineteen  years!  And  now  I  am  forty-six — and  the 
yellow  passport!" 

"Yes,  you  have  come  from  a  place  of  sorrow.  If  you 
leave  that  mournful  place  with  thoughts  of  hatred  and 
anger  against  your  fellow  man,  you  are  worthy  of  pity ;  if 
you  leave  it  with  thoughts  of  kindliness,  gentleness  and 
peace,  you  are  worth  more  than  any  of  us." 

Meanwhile  Madame  Magloire  had  served  the  supper.  The 


SELECTIONS  FOR  PRACTISE  405 

Bishop  during  the  whole  evening  did  not  utter  a  word 
which  could  remind  this  man  of  what  he  was.  He  supped 
with  Jean  Valjean  with  the  same  air  and  in  the  same  way 
as  if  he  had  been  M.  Gedeon  le  Provost  or  the  parish  curate. 
Was  not  this  really  charity? 

The  rooms  were  so  arranged  that  in  order  to  reach  the 
oratory  where  the  alcove  was  it  was  necessary  to  pass 
through  the  Bishop's  bedroom.  At  the  moment  he  went 
through  this  room  Madame  Magloire  was  putting  away  the 
plate  in  the  cupboard  over  the  bed  head. 

' '  I  trust  you  will  pass  a  good  night, ' '  said  the  Bishop. 

"  Thank  you,  Monsieur  1'Abbe."  He  suddenly  turned, 
1 '  What !  you  really  lodge  me  so  close  to  you  as  that  ?  Who 
tells  you  that  I  have  not  committed  a  murder  f " 

"That  concerns  God." 

The  Bishop  stretched  out  two  fingers  of  his  right  hand 
and  blessed  the  man,  who  did  not  bow  his  head,  and  re- 
turned to  his  bedroom. 


As  two  o'clock  peeled  from  the  cathedral  bell  Jean  Val- 
jean awoke.  One  thought  held  his  mind,  the  six  silver  forks 
and  spoons  and  the  great  ladle  which  alone  was  worth  two 
hundred  francs,  or  double  what  he  had  earned  in  nineteen 
years. 

When  three  o  'clock  struck  it  seemed  to  say,  * '  To  work ! ' ' 
He  noiselessly  opened  his  knapsack,  took  a  bar  in  his  right 
hand,  walked  toward  the  door  of  the  adjoining  room  and 
pushed  it  boldly.  A  badly-oiled  hinge  suddenly  uttered 
a  hoarse  prolonged  cry  in  the  darkness.  Jean  Valjean 


i06  HOW  TO  SPEAK  IN  PUBLIC 

started,  shuddering  and  dismayed.  A  few  minutes  passed; 
nothing  had  stirred.  He  heard  from  the  end  of  the  room 
the  calm  and  regular  breathing  of  the  sleeping  Bishop. 
Suddenly  he  stopped,  for  he  was  close  to  the  bed.  At  this 
moment  a  cloud  was  rent  asunder  and  a  moonbeam  suddenly 
illumined  the  Bishop 's  pale  face.  The  sleeper  seemed  to 
be  surrounded  by  a  glory.  There  was  almost  a  divinity 
in  this  unconsciously  august  man.  Jean  Valjean  was  stand- 
ing in  the  shadow  with  the  crowbar  in  his  hand,  motionless 
and  terrified.  He  had  never  seen  anything  like  this  before, 
and  such  confidence  horrified  him.  It  seemed  as  tho 
he  was  hesitating  between  two  abysses — the  one  that  saves 
and  the  one  that  destroys.  He  was  ready  to  dash  out  the 
Bishop's  brain  or  kiss  his  hand.  A  moonbeam  rendered 
dimly  visible  the  crucifix  over  the  mantel-piece;  it  seemed 
to  open  its  arms  for  both,  with  a  blessing  for  one  and  a 
pardon  for  the  other.  All  at  once  Jean  Valjean  went 
straight  to  the  cupboard,  seized  the  plate  basket,  hurried 
across  the  room,  opened  the  window^  put  the  silver  in  his 
pocket,  threw  away  the  basket,  leaped  into  the  garden, 
bounded  over  the  wall  like  a  tiger,  and  fled. 

The  next  morning  at  service  Monseigneur  was  walking 
outside  when  Madame  Magloire  came  running  toward  him 
in  a  state  of  great  alarm. 

Monseigneur,  the  man  is  gone — the  plate  is  stolen." 

"Was  that  plate  ours?"    Madame  Magloire  was  speech- 


"  Madame  Magloire,  I  had  wrongfully  held  back  this 
silver,  which  belonged  to  the  poor.  Who  was  this  person? 
Evidently  a  poor  man." 

As  the  brother  and  sister  were  leaving  the  breakfast  table 
there  was  a  knock  at  the  door. 


SELECTIONS  FOR  PRACTISE  407 

"Come  in,"  said  the  Bishop. 

The  door  opened  and  a  strange  and  violent  group  ap- 
peared on  the  threshold.  Three  men  were  holding  a  fourth 
by  the  collar — the  fourth  was  Jean  Valjean. 

Monseigneur  had  advanced  as  rapidly  as  his  great  age 
permitted,  saying: 

"Ah,  there  you  are;  I  am  glad  to  see  you.  Why,  I  gave 
you  the  candlesticks,  too,  which  are  also  silver.  Why  did 
you  not  take  them  away  with  the  rest  of  the  plate  1 ' ' 

Jean  Valjean  looked  at  the  Bishop  with  an  expression 
uo  human  language  could  describe. 

Monseigneur,  then  what  this  man  told  us  was  true. 
We  met  him  and,  as  he  looked  as  if  he  were  running  away, 
we  arrested  him.  He  had  this  plate." 

"And  he  told  you  that  it  was  given  to  him  by  an  old 
priest  at  whose  house  he  had  passed  the  night  ?  I  see  it  all. 
And  you  brought  him  back  here ;  that  was  a  mistake. ' ' 

The  gendarmes  loosed  their  hold  of  Jean  Valjean,  who 
tottered  back. 

1 '  My  friend,  before  you  go  take  your  candlesticks. ' ' 

Jean  Valjean  was  trembling  in  all  his  limbs;  he  took  the 
candlesticks  mechanically,  and  with  wandering  looks. 

"Now,  go  in  peace.  By-the-by,  when  you  return,  my 
friend,  it  is  unnecessary  to  pass  through  the  garden,  for 
you  can  always  enter,  day  and  night,  by  the  front  door, 
which  is  only  latched." 

Then,  turning  to  the  gendarmes,  he  said,  "Gentlemen, 
you  can  retire. ' ' 

Jean  Valjean  looked  as  if  he  were  on  the  point  of  faint- 
ing. The  Bishop  walked  up  to  him  and  said : 

' '  Never  forget  that  you  have  promised  me  to  employ  this 
money  in  becoming  an  honest  man.  Jean  Valjean,  my 


408  HOW  TO  SPEAK  IN  PUBLIC 

brother,  you  no  longer  belong  to  evil,  but  to  good.  I  have 
bought  your  soul  of  you.  I  withdraw  it  from  black  thoughts 
and  the  spirit  of  perdition,  and  give  it  to  God." 


THE  REVOLUTIONARY  RISING 
BY   THOMAS  BUCHANAN   READ 

Out  of  the  North  the  wild  news  came, 
Far  flashing  on  its  wings  of  flame, 
Swift  as  the  boreal  light  which  flies 
At  midnight  through  the  startled  skies. 
And  there  was  tumult  in  the  air, 

The  fife's  shrill  note,  the  drum's  loud  beat, 
And  through  the  wide  land  everywhere 

The  answering  tread  of  hurrying  feet; 
While  the  first  oath  of  Freedom's  gun 
Came  on  the  blast  from  Lexington ; 
And  Concord  roused,  no  longer  tame, 
Forgot  her  old  baptismal  name, 
Made  bare  her  patriot  arm  of  power, 
And  swelled  the  discord  of  the  hour. 

Within  its  shade  of  elm  and  oak 
The  church  of  Berkley  Manor  stood, 

There  Sunday  found  the  rural  folk, 
And  some  esteemed  of  gentle  blood. 

In  vain  their  feet  with  loitering  tread 

Passed  mid  the  graves  where  rank  is  naught, 
All  could  not  read  the  lesson  taught 

In  that  republic  of  the  dead. 


SELECTIONS  FOR  PRACTISE  409 

How  sweet  the  hour  of  Sabbath  talk, 
The  vale  with  peace  and  sunshine  full, 

Where  all  the  happy  people  walk, 
Decked  in  their  homespun  flax  and  wool ; 

Where  youth 's  gay  hats  with  blossoms  bloom ; 
And  every  maid,  with  simple  art, 
Wears  on  her  breast,  like  her  own  heart, 

A  bud  whose  depths  are  all  perfume ; 

While  every  garment's  gentle  stir 

Is  breathing  rose  and  lavender. 

The  pastor  came ;  his  snowy  locks 
Hallowed  his  brow  of  thought  and  care ; 

And  calmly,  as  shepherds  lead  their  flocks, 
He  led  into  the  house  of  prayer. 

Then  soon  he  rose ;  the  prayer  was  strong ; 

The  Psalm  was  warrior  David 's  song ; 

The  text,  a  few  short  words  of  might— 

"The  Lord  of  hosts  shall  arm  the  right!" 

He  spoke  of  wrongs  too  long  endured, 

Of  sacred  rights  to  be  secured ; 

Then  from  his  patriot  tongue  of  flame 
The  startling  words  for  Freedom  came. 
The  stirring  sentences  he  spake 
Compelled  the  heart  to  glow  or  quake, 
And,  rising  on  the  theme's  broad  wing, 

And  grasping  in  his  nervous  hand 

The  imaginary  battle-brand, 
In  face  of  death  he  dared  to  fling 
Defiance  to  a  tyrant  king. 


410  HOW  TO  SPEAK  IN  PUBLIC 

Even  as  he  spoke,  his  frame,  renewed 
In  eloquence  of  attitude, 
Kose,  as  it  seemed,  a  shoulder  higher ; 
Then  swept  his  kindling  glance  of  fire 
From  startled  pew  to  breathless  choir ; 
When  suddenly  his  mantle  wide 
His  hands  impatient  flung  aside, 
And,  lo !  he  met  their  wondering  eyes 
Complete  in  all  a  warrior's  guise. 

A  moment  there  was  awful  pause — 

When  Berkley  cried,  ' '  Cease,  traitor !  cease ! 

God's  temple  is  the  house  of  peace!" 

The  other  shouted,  "Nay,  not  so, 
When  God  is  with  our  righteous  cause ; 
His  holiest  places  then  are  ours, 
His  temples  are  our  forts  and  towers 

That  frown  upon  the  tyrant  foe ; 
In  this,  the  dawn  of  Freedom's  day, 
There  is  a  time  to  fight  and  pray ! ' ' 

And  now  before  the  open  door — 

The  warrior  priest  had  ordered  so — 
The  enlisting  trumpet's  sudden  roar 
Rang  through  the  chapel,  o  'er  and  o  'er, 
Its  long  reverberating  blow. 

So  loud  and  clear,  it  seemed  the  ear 
Of  dusty  death  must  wake  and  hear. 
And  there  the  startling  drum  and  fife 
Fired  the  living  with  fiercer  life ; 
While  overhead,  with  wild  increase, 


SELECTIONS  FOR  PRACTISE  411 

Forgetting  its  ancient  toll  of  peace, 
The  great  bell  swung  as  ne'er  before. 

It  seemed  as  it  would  never  cease ; 

And  every  word  its  order  flung 

From  off  its  jubilant  iron  tongue 
Was,  "War!  WAR!  WAR!" 

"Who  dares?" — this  was  the  patriot's  cry, 
As  striding  from  the  desk  he  came — 
' '  Come  out  with  me,  in  Freedom 's  name, 

For  her  to  live,  for  her  to  die ! ' ' 

A  hundred  hands  flung  up  reply, 

A  hundred  voices  answered,  ' '  I ! " . 


THE  LEGEND  OF  THE  ORGAN-BUILDER 
BY  JULIA   C.    R.   DORR 

Day   by   day   the   Organ-builder   in   his   lonely   chamber 

wrought ; 
Day  by  day  the  soft  air  trembled  to  the  music  of  his 

thought ; 

Till  at  last  the  work  was  ended ;  and  no  organ  voice  so  grand 
Ever  yet  had  soared  responsive  to  the  master's  magic  hand. 

Ay,  so  rarely  was  it  builded  that  whenever  groom  and  bride, 
Who,  in  God's  sight  were  well-pleasing,  in  the  church  stood 

side  by  side, 

Without  touch  or  breath  the  organ  of  itself  began  to  play, 
And  the  very  airs  of  heaven  through  the  soft  gloom  seemed 

to  stray. 


412  HOW  TO  SPEAK  IN  PUBLIC 

He  was  young,  the  Organ-builder,  and  o'er  all  the  land  his 

fame 
Ran  with  fleet  and  eager  footsteps,  like  a  swiftly  rushing 

flame. 
All  the  maidens  heard  the  story;  all  the  maidens  blushed 

and  smiled 
By  his  youth  and  wondrous  beauty  and  his  great  renown 

beguiled. 

So  he  sought  and  won  the  fairest,  and  the  wedding-day  was 

set: 

Happy  day — the  brightest  jewel  in  the  glad  year's  coronet! 
But  when  they  the  portal  entered,  he  forgot  his  lovely 

bride — 
Forgot  his  love,  forgot  his  God,  and  his  heart  swelled  high 

with  pride. 


1  'Ah!"  thought  he,  "how  great  a  master  am  I!    When  the 

organ  plays, 

How  the  vast  cathedral-arches  will  reecho  with  my  praise ! ' ' 
Up  the  aisle  the  gay  procession  moved.     The  altar  shone 

afar, 
With  every  candle  gleaming  through  soft  shadows  like  a 

star. 

But  he  listened,  listened,  listened,  with  no  thought  of  love 

or  prayer, 
For  the  swelling  notes  of  triumph  from  his  organ  standing 

there. 
All  was  silent.     Nothing  heard  he  save  the  priest's  low 

monotone, 
And  the  bride's  robe  trailing  softly  o'er  the  floor  of  fretted 

stone. 


SELECTIONS  FOR  PRACTISE  413 

Then  his  lips  grew  white  with  anger.     Surely  God  was 

pleased  with  him. 
Who  had  built  the  wondrous  organ  for  His  temple  vast  and 

dim! 
Whose  the  fault  then  ?    Hers — the  maiden  standing  meekly 

at  his  side ! 
Flamed  his  jealous  rage,  maintaining  she  was  false  to  him — 

his  bride. 

Vain  were  all  her  protestations,  vain  her  innocence  and 

truth ; 

On  that  very  night  he  left  her  to  her  anguish  and  her  ruth. 
Far  he  wandered  to  a  country  wherein  no  man  knew  his 

name: 
For  ten  weary  years  he  dwelt  there,  nursing  still  his  wrath 

and  shame. 

Then  his  haughty  heart  grew  softer,  and  he  thought  by 
night  and  day 

Of  the  bride  he  had  deserted,  till  he  hardly  dared  to  pray ; 

Thought  of  her,  a  spotless  maiden,  fair  and  beautiful  and 
good; 

Thought  of  his  relentless  anger,  that  had  cursed  her  woman- 
hood; 

Till  his  yearning  grief  and  penitence  at  last  were  all  com- 
plete, 

And  he  longed,  with  bitter  longing,  just  to  fall  down  at  her 
feet. 

Ah !  how  throbbed  his  heart  when,  after  many  a  weary  day 
and  night, 

Rose  his  native  towers  before  him,  with  the  sunset  glow 
alight ! 


414  HOW  TO  SPEAK  IN  PUBLIC 

Through  the  gates  into  the  city  on  he  pressed  with  eager 

tread ; 
There  he  met  a  long  procession — mourners  following  the 

dead. 
"Now  why  weep  ye  so,  good  people?   And  whom  bury  ye 

to-day  1 
Why  do  yonder  sorrowing  maidens  scatter  flowers  along 

the  way? 

Has  some  saint  gone  up  to  heaven?"  "Yes,"  they  an- 
swered, weeping  sore; 

'  *  For  the  Organ-builder 's  saintly  wife  our  eyes  shall  see  no 
more; 

And  because  her  days  were  given  to  the  service  of  God's 
poor, 

Prom  His  church  we  mean  to  bury  her.  See !  yonder  is  the 
door." 

No  one  knew  him;  no  one  wondered  when  he  cried  out, 

white  with  pain; 
No  one  questioned  when,  with  pallid  lips,  he  poured  his 

tears  like  rain. 
"  'Tis  some  one  she  has  comforted,  who  mourns  with  us," 

they  said, 
As  he  made  his  way  unchallenged,  and  bore  the  coffin's 

head; 

Bore  it  through  the  open  portal,  bore  it  up  the  echoing  aisle, 
Let  it  down  before  the  altar,  where  the  lights  burned  clear 

the  while. 

When,  oh,  hark !  the  wondrous  organ  of  itself  began  to  play 
Strains  of  rare,  unearthly  sweetness  never  heard  until  that 

day! 


SELECTIONS  FOR  PRACTISE  415 

All  the  vaulted  arches  rang  with  music  sweet  and  clear ; 
All  the  air  was  filled  with  glory,  as  of  angels  hovering  near ; 
And  ere  yet  the  strain  was  ended,  he  who  bore  the  coffin's 

head, 
With  the  smile  of  one  forgiven,  gently  sank  beside  it — dead. 

They  who  raised  the  body  knew  him,  and  they  laid  him  by 

his  bride ; 
Down  the  aisle  and  o'er  the  threshold  they  were  carried, 

side  by  side ; 
While  the  organ  played  a  dirge  that  no  man  ever  heard 

before, 
And  then  softly  sank  to  silence — silence  kept  forevermore. 


SHIPWRECKED 
BY  FRANgOIS   COPP&E 

'Tis  fifty  years  ago  this  very  day 

Since  I  first  went  to  sea ;  on  board,  you  know, 

Of  La  Belle  Honorine — lost  long  ago — 

An  old  three-masted  tub,  rotten  almost, 

Just  fit  to  burn,  bound  for  the  Guinea  coast. 

We  set  all  sail.    The  breeze  was  fair  and  stiff. 

My  boyhood  had  been  passed  'neath  yonder  cliff, 

Where  an  old  man — my  uncle,  so  he  said — 

Kept  me  at  prawning  for  my  daily  bread. 

At  night  he  came  home  drunk.    Such  kicks  and  blows ! 

Ah  me !  what  children  suffer  no  man  knows ! 

But  once  at  sea  'twas  ten  times  worse,  I  found. 

I  learned  to  take,  to  bear,  and  make  no  sound. 


416  HOW  TO  SPEAK  IN  PUBLIC 

First  place,  our  ship  was  in  the  negro  trade, 
And  once  off  land,  no  vain  attempts  were  made 
At  secrecy.    Our  captain  after  that 
(Round  as  an  egg)  was  liberal  of  the  cat. 
The  rope's-end,  cuffs,  kicks,  blows,  all  fell  on  me; 
I  was  ship's  boy — 'twas  natural,  you  see — 
And  as  I  went  about  the  decks  my  arm 
Was  always  raised  to  fend  my  face  from  harm. 
No  man  had  pity.    Blows  and  stripes  always, 
For  sailors  knew  no  better  in  those  days 
Than  to  thrash  boys,  till  those  who  lived  at  last 
As  able  seamen  shipped  before  the  mast. 


I  ceased  to  cry.    Tears  brought  me  no  relief. 

I  think  I  might  have  perished  of  mute  grief, 

Had  not  God  sent  a  friend — a  friend — to  me. 

Sailors  believe  in  God — one  must  at  sea. 

On  board  that  ship  a  God  of  mercy  then 

Had  placed  a  dog  among  those  cruel  men. 

Like  me,  he  shunned  their  brutal  kicks  and  blows. 

We  soon  grew  friends,  fast  friends,  true  friends,  God  knows ! 

He  was  Newfoundland.    Black,  they  called  him  there. 

His  eyes  were  golden  brown,  and  black  his  hair. 

He  was  my  shadow  from  that  blessed  night 

When  we  made  friends ;  and  by  the  star 's  half  light, 

When  all  the  forecastle  was  fast  asleep, 

And  our  men  l '  caulked  their  watch, ' '  I  used  to  creep 

With  Black  among  some  boxes  stowed  on  deck, 

And  with  my  arms  clasped  tightly  round  his  neck, 

I  used  to  cry  and  cry,  and  press  my  head 

Close  to  the  heart  grieved  by  the  tears  I  shed. 


SELECTIONS  FOR  PRACTISE  417 

Night  after  night  I  mourned  our  piteous  case, 

While  Black 's  large  tongue  licked  my  poor  tear-stained  face. 

Poor  Black !    I  think  of  him  so  often  still ! 

At  first  we  had  fair  winds  our  sails  to  fill, 
But  one  hot  night,  when  all  was  calm  and  mute, 
Our  skipper — a  good  sailor,  tho  a  brute — 
Gave  a  long  look  over  the  vessel's  side, 
Then  to  the  steersman  whispered,  half  aside, 
'  *  See  that  ox-eye  out  yonder  ?    It  looks  queer. ' ' 
The  man  replied,  "The  storm  will  soon  be  here." 
' '  Hullo !    All  hands  on  deck !    We  '11  be  prepared. 
Stow  royals!    Reef  the  courses !    Pass  the  word!" 
Vain !    The  squall  broke  ere  we  could  shorten  sail ; 
We  lowered  the  topsails,  but  the  raging  gale 
Spun  our  old  ship  about.    The  captain  roared 
His  orders — lost  in  the  great  noise  on  board. 
The  devil  was  in  that  squall !    But  all  men  could, 
To  save  their  ship  we  did.    Do  what  we  would, 
The  gale  grew  worse  and  worse.    She  sprang  a  leak ; 
Her  hold  filled  fast.    We  found  we  had  to  seek 
Some  way  to  save  our  lives.    ' '  Lower  a  boat ! ' ' 
The  captain  shouted.    Before  one  would  float 
Our  ship  broached  to.    The  strain  had  broke  her  back, 
Like  a  whole  broadside  boomed  the  awful  crack. 
She  settled  fast. 

Landsmen  can  have  no  notion 
Of  how  it  feels  to  sink  beneath  the  ocean. 
As  the  blue  billows  closed  above  our  deck, 
And  with  slow  motion  swallowed  down  the  wreck, 
I  saw  my  past  life,  by  some  flash,  outspread; 


418  HOW  TO  SPEAK  IN  PUBLIC 

Saw  the  old  port,  its  ships,  its  old  pier-head, 
My  own  bare  feet,  the  rocks,  the  sandy  shore — 
Salt-water  filled  my  mouth — I  saw  no  more. 

I  did  not  struggle  much — I  could  not  swim. 

I  sank  down  deep,  it  seemed — drowned  but  for  him — 

For  Black,  I  mean — who  seized  my  jacket  tight, 

And  dragged  me  out  of  darkness  back  to  light. 

The  ship  was  gone — the  captain's  gig  afloat; 

By  one  brave  tug  he  brought  me  near  the  boat. 

I  seized  the  gunwale,  sprang  on  board,  and  drew 

My  friend  in  after  me.    Of  all  our  crew, 

The  dog  and  I  alone  survived  the  gale : 

Afloat  with  neither  rudder,  oars,  nor  sail! 

For  five  long  nights,  and  longer  dreadful  days, 

We  floated  onward  in  a  tropic  haze. 

Fierce  hunger  gnawed  us  with  its  cruel  fangs, 

And  mental  anguish  with  its  keener  pangs. 

Each  morn  I  hoped ;  each  night,  when  hope  was  gone, 

My  poor  dog  licked  me  with  his  tender  tongue. 

Under  the  blazing  sun  and  starlit  night 

I  watched  in  vain.    No  sail  appeared  in  sight. 

Round  us  the  blue  spread  wider,  bluer,  higher. 

The  fifth  day  my  parched  throat  was  all  on  fire, 

When  something  suddenly  my  notice  caught — 

Black,  crouching,  shivering,  underneath  athwart. 

He  looked — his  dreadful  look  no  tongue  can  tell — 

And  his  kind  eyes  glared  like  coals  of  hell ! 

"Here,  Black!  old  fellow!  here!"  I  cried  in  vain. 

He  looked  me  in  the  face  and  crouched  again. 
I  rose;  he  snarled,  drew  back.    How  piteously    • 


SELECTIONS  FOR  PRACTISE  419 

His  eyes  entreated  help!    He  snapped  at  me! 
1 '  What  can  this  mean  ? "  I  cried,  yet  shook  with  fear, 
With  that  great  shudder  felt  when  Death  is  near. 
Black  seized  the  gunwale  with  his  teeth.    I  saw 
Thick  slimy  foam  drip  from  his  awful  jaw ; 
Then  I  knew  all !    Five  days  of  tropic  heat, 
Without  one  drop  of  drink,  one  scrap  of  meat, 
Had  made  him  rabid.    He  whose  courage  had 
Preserved  my  life — my  messmate,  friend — was  mad ! 
You  understand  ?    Can  you  see  him  and  me, 
The  open  boat  tossed  on  a  brassy  sea, 
A  child  and  a  wild  beast  on  board  alone, 
While  overhead  streams  down  the  tropic  sun 
And  the  boy  crouching,  trembling  for  his  life? 

I  searched  my  pockets  and  I  drew  my  knife — 

For  everyone  instinctively,  you  know, 

Defends  his  life.     'Twas  time  that  I  did  so, 

For  at  that  moment,  with  a  furious  bound, 

The  dog  flew  at  me.    I  sprang  half  around. 

He  missed  me  in  blind  haste.    With  all  my  might 

I  seized  his  neck,  and  grasped,  and  held  him  tight. 

I  felt  him  writhe  and  try  to  bite,  as  he 

Struggled  beneath  the  pressure  of  my  knee. 

His  red  eyes  rolled ;  sighs  heaved  his  shining  coat. 

I  plunged  my  knife  three  times  in  his  poor  throat. 

And  so  I  killed  my  friend.    I  had  but  one ! 
What  matters  how,  after  that  deed  was  done, 
They  picked  me  up  half  dead, 
And  took  me  back  to  France ! 


420  HOW  TO  SPEAK  IN  PUBLIC 

Need  I  say  more? 

I  have  killed  men — ay,  many — in  my  day, 
Without  remorse — for  sailors  must  obey. 
One  of  a  squad,  once  in  Barbadoes,  I 
Shot  my  own  comrade  when  condemned  to  die. 
I  never  dream  of  him,  for  that  was  war. 
Under  old  Magon,  too,  at  Trafalgar, 
I  hacked  the  hands  of  English  boarders.    Ten 
My  ax  lopped  off.    I  dream  not  of  those  men. 
But  yet  even  now 

The  death  of  Black,  altho  so  long  ago, 
Upsets  me.    I'll  not  sleep  to-night.    It  brings  .    .    . 
Here,  boy !    Another  glass !    We  '11  talk  of  other  things ! 


THE  FIRST  SETTLER'S  STORY 
BY   WILL   CARLETON 

Well,  when  I  first  infested  this  retreat, 
Things  to  my  view  look  'd  frightful  incomplete ; 
But  I  had  come  with  heart-thrift  in  my  song, 
And  brought  my  wife  and  plunder  right  along ; 
I  hadn't  a  round- trip  ticket  to  go  back, 
And  if  I  had  there  was  no  railroad  track ; 
And  drivin'  East  was  what  I  couldn't  endure: 
I  hadn't  started  on  a  circular  tour. 

My  girl-wife  was  as  brave  as  she  was  good, 
And  help  'd  me  every  blessed  way  she  could ; 
She  seem'd  to  take  to  every  rough  old  tree, 
As  sing'lar  as  when  first  she  took  to  me. 


SELECTIONS  FOB  PRACTISE  421 

She  kep '  our  little  log  house  neat  as  wax, 
And  once  I  caught  her  fooling  with  my  ax. 
She  hadn't  the  muscle  (tho  she  had  the  heart) 
In  outdoor  work  to  take  an  active  part ; 
She  was  delicious,  both  to  hear  and  see, — 
That  pretty  girl-wife  that  kep '  house  for  me. 

Well,  neighborhoods  meant  counties  in  those  days; 
The  roads  didn  't  have  accommodating  ways ; 
And  maybe  weeks  would  pass  before  she'd  see — - 
And  much  less  talk  with — anyone  but  me. 
The  Indians  sometimes  show'd  their  sun-baked  faces, 
But  they  didn't  teem  with  conversational  graces; 
Some  ideas  from  the  birds  and  trees  she  stole, 
But  'twasn't  like  talking  with  a  human  soul; 
And  finally  I  thought  that  I  could  trace 
A  half  heart-hunger  peering  from  her  face. 

One  night,  when  I  came  home  unusual  late, 
Too  hungry  and  too  tired  to  feel  first-rate, 
Her  supper  struck  me  wrong  (tho  I'll  allow 
She  hadn't  much  to  strike  with,  anyhow)  ; 
And,  when  I  went  to  milk  the  cows,  and  found 
They'd  wandered  from  their  usual  feeding-ground, 
And  maybe 'd  left  a  few  long  miles  behind  'em, 
Which  I  must  copy  if  I  meant  to  find  'em, 
Flash-quick  the  stay-chains  of  my  temper  broke, 
And  in  a  trice  these  hot  words  I  had  spoke : 
"You  ought  to've  kept  the  animals  in  view, 
And  drove  them  in ;  you  'd  nothing  else  to  do. 
The  heft  of  all  our  life  on  me  must  fall ; 
You  just  lie  round,  and  let  me  do  it  all. ' ' 


422  HOW  TO  SPEAK  IN  PUBLIC 

That  speech, — it  hadn't  been  gone  a  half  a  minute 

Before  I  saw  the  cold  black  poison  in  it; 

And  I'd  have  given  all  I  had,  and  more, 

To  've  only  safely  got  it  back  indoor. 

I  'm  now  what  most  folks  ' '  well-to-do ' '  would  call : 

I  feel  to-day  as  if  I  'd  give  it  all, 

Provided  I  through  fifty  years  might  reach 

And  kill  and  bury  that  half -minute  speech. 

She  handed  back  no  words,  as  I  could  hear; 

She  didn't  frown;  she  didn't  shed  a  tear; 

Half  proud,  half  crush 'd,  she  stood  and  look'd  me  o'er, 

Like  some  one  she  had  never  seen  before ! 

But  such  a  sudden  anguish-lit  surprise 

I  never  view'd  before  in  human  eyes. 

(I've  seen  it  oft  enough  since  in  a  dream; 

It  sometimes  wakes  me  like  a  midnight  scream.) 

Next  morning,  when,  stone-faced  but  heavy-hearted, 

With  dinner-pail  and  sharpen 'd  ax  I  started 

Away  for  my  day's  work,  she  watch 'd  the  door, 

And  follow 'd  me  half-way  to  it  or  more; 

And  I  was  just  a-turning  round  at  this, 

And  asking  for  my  usual  good-by  kiss ; 

But  on  her  lip  I  saw  a  proudish  curve, 

And  in  her  eye  a  shadow  of  reserve ; 

And  she  had  shown — perhaps  half  unawares — 

Some  little  independent  breakfast  airs; 

And  so  the  usual  parting  didn't  occur, 

Altho  her  eyes  invited  me  to  her ; 

Or  rather  half  invited  me,  for  she 

Didn  't  advertise  to  furnish  kisses  free : 


SELECTIONS  FOR  PRACTISE  423 

You  always  had — that  is,  I  had — to  pay 

Full  market  price,  and  go  more  'n  half  the  way ; 

So,  with  a  short  "Good-by"  I  shut  the  door, 

And  left  her  as  I  never  had  before. 

But  when  at  noon  my  lunch  I  came  to  eat, 

Put  up  by  her  so  delicately  neat, — 

Choicer,  somewhat,  than  yesterday's  had  been, 

And  some  fresh,  sweet-eyed  pansies  she'd  put  in, — 

" Tender  and  pleasant  thoughts,"  I  knew  they  meant, — 

It  seem'd  as  if  with  me  her  kiss  she'd  sent; 

Then  I  became  once  more  her  humble  lover, 

And  said,  "To-night  I'll  ask  forgiveness  of  her." 

I  went  home  over-early  on  that  eve, 
Having  contrived  to  make  myself  believe, 
By  various  signs  I  kind  o'  knew  and  guess 'd, 
A  thunder-storm  was  coming  from  the  west. 
( 'Tis  strange,  when  one  sly  reason  fills  the  heart, 
How  many  honest  ones  will  take  its  part : 
A  dozen  first-class  reasons  said  'twas  right 
That  I  should  strike  home  early  on  that  night.) 

Half  out  of  breath,  the  cabin  door  I  swung, 

With  tender  heart- words  trembling  on  my  tongue ; 

But  all  within  look  'd  desolate  and  bare : 

My  house  had  lost  its  soul :  she  was  not  there ! 

A  pencil'd  note  was  on  the  table  spread, 

And  these  are  something  like  the  words  it  said : 

"The  cows  have  stray 'd  away  again,  I  fear; 

I  watch  'd  them  pretty  close ;  don 't  scold  me,  dear. 

And  where  they  are  I  think  I  nearly  know ; 

I  heard  the  bell  not  very  long  ago. 


424  HOW  TO  SPEAK  IN  PUBLIC 

I  Ve  hunted  for  them  all  the  afternoon ; 
I'll  try  once  more, — I  think  111  find  them  soon. 
Dear,  if  a  burden  I  have  been  to  you, 
And  haven't  help'd  you  as  I  ought  to  do, 
Let  old-time  memories  my  forgiveness  plead; 
I've  tried  to  do  my  best, — I  have,  indeed. 
Darling,  piece  out  with  love  the  strength  I  lack, 
And  have  kind  words  for  me  when  I  get  back. ' ' 

Scarce  did  I  give  this  letter  sight  and  tongue, — 

Some  swift-blown  rain-drops  to  the  window  clung, 

And  from  the  clouds  a  rough,  deep  growl  proceeded : 

My  thunder-storm  had  come,  now  'twasn't  needed. 

I  rush  'd  outdoor.    The  air  was  stain  'd  with  black : 

Night  had  come  early,  on  the  storm-cloud 's  back : 

And  everything  kept  dimming  to  the  sight, 

Save  when  the  clouds  threw  their  electric  light ; 

When,  for  a  flash,  so  clean-cut  was  the  view, 

I  'd  think  I  saw  her, — knowing  'twas  not  true. 

Through  my  small  clearing  dash'd  wide  sheets  of  spray, 

As  if  the  ocean  waves  had  lost  their  way ; 

Scarcely  a  pause  the  thunder-battle  made, 

In  the  bold  clamor  of  its  cannonade. 

And  she,  while  I  was  shelter  'd,  dry,  and  warm, 

Was  somewhere  in  the  clutches  of  this  storm ! 

She  who,  when  storm-frights  found  her  at  her  best, 

Had  always  hid  her  white  face  on  my  breast ! 

My  dog,  who'd  skirmish 'd  round  me  all  the  day, 
Now  crouch 'd,  and  whimpering,  in  a  corner  lay. 
I  dragg'd  him  by  the  collar  to  the  wall, 
I  press  'd  his  quivering  muzzle  to  a  shawl, — 


SELECTIONS  FOR  PRACTISE  425 

" Track  her,  old  boy!"  I  shouted;  and  he  whined, 

Match'd  eyes  with  me,  as  if  to  read  my  mind, 

Then  with  a  yell  went  tearing  through  the  wood. 

I  follow 'd  him,  as  faithful  as  I  could. 

No  pleasure-trip  was  that,  through  flood  and  flame 

We  raced  with  death ;  we  hunted  noble  game. 

All  night  we  dragg'd  the  woods  without  avail; 

The  ground  got  drench 'd, — we  could  not  keep  the  trail. 

Three  times  again  my  cabin  home  I  found, 

Half  hoping  she  might  be  there,  safe  and  sound; 

But  each  time  'twas  an  unavailing  care : 

My  house  had  lost  its  soul :  she  was  not  there ! 

When,  climbing  the  wet  trees,  next  morning-sun 

Laugh 'd  at  the  ruin  that  the  night  had  done, 

Bleeding  and  drench 'd  by  toil,  and  sorrow  bent, 

Back  to  what  used  to  be  my  home  I  went. 

But,  as  I  near'd  our  little  clearing-ground, — 

Listen! — I  heard  the  cow-bell's  tinkling  sound. 

The  cabin  door  was  just  a  bit  ajar; 

It  gleam 'd  upon  my  glad  eyes  like  a  star. 

'  *  Brave  heart, ' '  I  said,  ' '  for  such  a  fragile  form ! 

She  made  them  guide  her  homeward  through  the  storm!" 

Such  pangs  of  joy  I  never  felt  before. 

"You've  come!"  I  shouted,  and  rush'd  through  the  door. 

Yes,  she  had  come, — and  gone  again.     She  lay 

With  all  her  young  life  crush 'd  and  wrench 'd  away, — 

Lay,  the  heart-ruins  of  our  home  among, 

Not  far  from  where  I  kill'd  her  with  my  tongue. 

The  rain-drops  glitter 'd  'mid  her  hair's  long  strands, 

The  forest  thorns  had  torn  her  feet  and  hands, 


426  HOW  TO  SPEAK  IN  PUBLIC 

And  'midst  the  tears — brave  tears — that  one  could  trace 

Upon  the  pale  but  sweetly  resolute  face, 

I  once  again  the  mournful  words  could  read, 

1 1 1  've  tried  to  do  my  best, — I  have,  indeed. ' ' 

And  now  I'm  mostly  done;  my  story's  o'er; 
Part  of  it  never  breathed  the  air  before. 
'Tisn't  over-usual,  it  must  be  allow 'd, 
To  volunteer  heart-story  to  a  crowd, 
And  scatter  'mongst  them  confidential  tears, 
But  you  '11  protect  an  old  man  with  his  years ; 
And  wheresoe'er  this  story's  voice  can  reach, 
This  is  the  sermon  I  would  have  it  preach : 

Boys  flying  kites  haul  in  their  white- wing 'd  birds: 
You  can't  do  that  way  when  you're  flying  words. 
"Careful  with  fire,"  is  good  advice  we  know; 
"Careful  with  words,"  is  ten  times  doubly  so. 
Thoughts  unexpress'd  may  sometimes  fall  back  dead, 
But  God  Himself  can 't  kill  them  once  they  're  said ! 

(Reprinted  by  permission.     Copyright  1881,  1898,   by 
Harper  and  Brothers.) 


THE  MONSTER   CANNON 
BY  VICTOR  HUGO 

They  heard  a  noise  unlike  anything  usually  heard.  The 
cry  and  the  crash  came  from  the  interior  of  the  vessel. 

One  of  the  carronades  of  the  battery,  a.  twenty-four 
pounder,  bad  become  detached. 

This,  perhaps,  is  the  most  formidable  of  ocean  events. 


SELECTIONS  FOR  PRACTISE  427 

Nothing  more  terrible  can  happen  to  a  war  vessel,  at  sea 
and  under  full  sail. 

A  cannon  which  breaks  its  moorings  becomes  abruptly 
some  indescribable,  supernatural  beast.  It  is  a  machine 
which  transforms  itself  into  a  monster.  This  mass  runs 
on  its  wheels,  like  billiard-balls,  inclines  with  the  rolling, 
plunges  with  the  pitching,  goes,  comes,  stops,  seems  to 
meditate,  resumes  its  course,  shoots  from  one  end  of  the 
ship  to  the  other  like  an  arrow,  whirls,  steals  away,  evades, 
prances,  strikes,  breaks,  kills,  exterminates.  It  is  a  ram 
which  capriciously  assails  a  wall.  Add  this — the  ram  is 
of  iron,  the  wall  is  of  wood.  This  furious  bulk  has  the 
leaps  of  a  panther,  the  weight  of  the  elephant,  the  agility 
of  the  mouse,  the  pertinacity  of  the  ax,  the  unexpectedness 
of  the  surge,  the  rapidity  of  lightning,  the  silence  of  the 
sepulcher.  It  weighs  ten  thousand  pounds,  and  it  rebounds 
like  a  child's  ball.  Its  whirlings  are  suddenly  cut  at  right 
angles.  What  is  to  be  done?  How  shall  an  end  be  put  to 
its  movements  ?  A  tempest  ceases,  a  cyclone  passes,  a  wind 
goes  down,  a  broken  mast  is  replaced,  a  leak  is  stopped,  a 
fire  put  out, — but  what  shall  be  done  with  this  enormous 
brute  of  bronze?  How  try  to  secure  it?  You  can  reason 
with  a  dog,  paralyze  a  bull,  fascinate  a  serpent,  terrify  a 
tiger,  and  soften  the  noble  heart  of  a  lion ;  no  resource  with 
such  a  monster  as  a  loose  cannon.  You  cannot  kill  it:  it 
is  dead,  and  at  the  same  time  it  lives  with  a  sinister  life 
which  comes  from  the  Infinite.  It  is  moved  by  the  ship, 
which  is  moved  by  the  sea,  which  is  moved  by  the  wind. 
This  exterminator  is  a  plaything.  The  horrible  cannon 
struggles,  advances,  retreats,  strikes  to  the  right,  strikes  to 
the  left,  flees,  passes,  disconcerts  expectation,  grinds  every 
obstacle  to  powder,  and  crushes  men  like  flies. 


428  HOW  TO  SPEAK  IN  PUBLIC 

In  a  moment  the  whole  of  the  crew  were  on  the  scene  of 
the  accident.  A  gunner  had  caused  all  the  mischief  by 
neglecting  to  secure  the  nut  of  the  chain  which  composed 
the  lashing,  and  by  not  properly  blocking  the  four  wheels, 
so  that  the  play  given  to  the  sole  and  frame  had  torn  it 
from  the  platform,  and  ended  by  breaking  the  breeching. 
As  a  heavy  sea  struck  the  port,  the  carronade,  badly  lashed, 
had  slipped  back,  and,  bursting  its  chain,  had  commenced 
flying  hither  and  thither  between  decks. 

The  carronade,  hurled  by  the  pitching,  made  havoc  in 
the  group  of  men,  crushing  four  at  the  first  blow;  then 
receding  and  brought  back  by  the  rolling,  it  cut  a  fifth  un- 
fortunate man  in  two,  and  dashed  against  the  larboard  side 
a  piece  of  the  battery  which  it  dismounted.  Thence  came 
the  cry  of  distress  which  had  been  heard.  All  the  men 
rushed  toward  the  ladder.  The  battery  was  emptied  in  the 
twinkling  of  an  eye. 

The  captain  and  lieutenant,  altho  both  intrepid  men, 
had  halted  at  the  head  of  the  ladder,  and,  dumb,  pale,  hes- 
itating, looked  down  into  the  lower  deck.  Some  one  pushed 
them  to  one  side  with  his  elbow  and  descended. 

It  was  an  old  man,  a  passenger. 

Once  at  the  foot  of  the  ladder  he  stood  still. 

Hither  and  thither  along  the  lower  deck  came  the  can- 
non. One  might  have  thought  it  the  living  chariot  of  the 
Apocalypse. 

The  captain  promptly  regained  his  presence  of  mind, 
and  caused  to  be  thrown  into  the  lower  deck  all  that  could 
allay  and  fetter  the  unbridled  course  of  the  cannon, — 
mattresses,  hammocks,  spare  sails,  rolls  of  cordage,  bags 
of  equipments,  and  bales  of  counterfeit  assignats,  of  which 
the  corvette  had  a  full  cargo. 


SELECTIONS  FOR  PRACTISE  429 

But  of  what  avail  these  rags  ?  Nobody  daring  to  go  down 
and  place  them  properly,  in  a  few  minutes  they  were  lint. 

There  was  just  sea  enough  to  make  the  accident  as  com- 
plete as  possible.  A  tempest  would  have  been  desirable; 
it  might  have  thrown  the  cannon  upside  down,  and,  once 
the  four  wheels  were  in  the  air,  it  could  have  been  mastered. 
As  it  was,  the  havoc  increased.  There  were  chafings  and 
even  fractures  in  the  masts,  which,  jointed  into  the  frame 
of  the  keel,  go  through  the  floors  of  vessels  and  are  like 
great  round  pillars.  Under  the  convulsive  blows  of  the 
cannon,  the  foremast  had  cracked,  the  mainmast  itself  was 
cut.  The  battery  was  disjointed.  Ten  pieces  out  of  the 
thirty  were  hors  de  combat;  the  breaches  in  the  sides  mul- 
tiplied, and  the  corvette  commenced  to  take  in  water. 

The  old  passenger  who  had  gone  down  to  the  lower  deck 
seemed  a  man  of  stone  at  the  bottom  of  the  ladder.  He 
cast  a  severe  look  on  the  devastation.  He  did  not  stir.  It 
seemed  impossible  to  take  a  step  in  the  battery. 

They  must  perish,  or  cut  short  the  disaster;  something 
must  be  done,  but  what? 

What  a  combatant  that  carronade  was! 

That  frightful  maniac  must  be  stopped. 

The  lightning  must  be  averted. 

That  thunderbolt  must  be  conquered. 

The  captain  said  to  the  lieutenant: 

"Do  you  believe  in  God,  Chevalier?" 

"Yes.    No.    Sometimes." 

"In  the  tempest?" 

"Yes.    And  in  moments  like  these." 

"In  reality  God  only  can  rid  us  of  this  trouble." 

All  were  hushed,  leaving  the  carronade  to  do  its  horrible 
work. 


430  HOW  TO  SPEAK  IN  PUBLIC 

Outside,  the  billows  beating  the  vessel  answered  the  blows 
of  the  cannon.  It  was  like  two  hammers  alternating. 

All  of  a  sudden,  in  that  kind  of  unapproachable  circuit 
wherein  the  escaped  cannon  bounded,  a  man  appeared,  with 
an  iron  bar  in  his  hand.  It  was  the  author  of  the  catastro- 
phe, the  chief  gunner,  guilty  of  negligence  and  the  cause 
of  the  accident,  the  master  of  the  carronade.  Having  done 
the  evil,  he  wished  to  repair  it.  He  had  grasped  a  hand- 
spike in  one  hand,  some  guntackle  with  a  slip-knot  in  the 
other,  and  jumped  upon  the  lower  deck. 

Then  a  wild  exploit  commenced,  a  Titanic  spectacle :  the 
strife  of  the  gun  against  the  gunner,  the  combat  of  matter 
against  mind,  the  duel  of  the  lifeless  and  the  living. 

The  man  had  posted  himself  in  a  corner,  and  with  his 
bar  and  rope  in  his  two  fists,  leaning  against  one  of  the 
riders,  standing  firmly  on  his  legs  which  seemed  like  two 
pillars  of  steel,  livid,  calm,  tragic,  as  tho  rooted  to  the 
floor,  he  waited. 

He  was  waiting  for  the  cannon  to  pass  near  him. 

The  gunner  knew  his  piece,  and  it  seemed  to  him  that 
it  must  know  him.  He  had  lived  for  some  time  with  it. 
How  many  times  he  had  thrust  his  hand  into  its  jaws !  It 
was  his  tamed  monster.  He  commenced  talking  to  it  as  he 
would  to  his  dog. 

' '  Come, ' '  said  he ;  perhaps  he  loved  it. 

He  seemed  to  wish  that  it  would  turn  in  his  direction,  but 
should  it  do  so,  he  would  be  lost.  How  avoid  its  crushing 
weight?  That  was  the  question.  All  gazed  on  the  scene 
with  eyes  of  terror. 

Not  a  breast  breathed  freely,  except  perhaps  that  of  the 
old  man  who  was  alone  below  with  the  two  combatants — 
an  impassive  second. 


SELECTIONS  FOR  PRACTISE  431 

He  himself  ran  the  chance  of  being  crushed  by  the  piece, 
and  yet  he  never  stirred. 

Beneath  them  the  sea,  an  invisible  power,  directed  the 
combat. 

At  the  instant  when  the  gunner  accepted  this  terrible 
hand-to-hand  encounter,  a  lull  in  the  motion  of  the  vessel 
brought  the  cannon  to  a  standstill,  as  tho  stupefied. 

"Come  then!"  cried  he.    It  seemed  as  if  it  heard  him. 

Suddenly  it  leapt  at  him;  the  man  avoided  the  shock. 

The  struggle  now  commenced — such  a  struggle  as  had 
never  before  been  heard  of.  The  fragile  opposing  itself 
to  the  invulnerable.  A  creature  of  flesh  and  blood  attack- 
ing a  brazen  monster.  On  one  side  was  mind,  on  the  other 
brute  force.  All  this  scene  passed  in  a  sort  of  twilight;  it 
was  like  some  miraculous  event  indistinctly  seen. 

A  mind — strange  as  it  may  seem,  the  cannon  appeared 
to  possess  one  also — a  mind  filled  with  rage  and  hatred. 
This  blind  mass  appeared  to  be  endued  with  sight.  The 
monster  had  the  appearance  of  watching  for  the  man.  It, 
too,  waited  its  opportunity ;  you  could  hardly  help  believing 
that  it  was  filled  with  the  spirit  of  cunning.  It  resembled 
some  gigantic  iron  insect  inspired  with  the  will  of  a  demon. 
At  an  instant  this  colossal  grasshopper  would  strike  the 
low  ceiling  of  the  deck,  then  it  would  fall  back  on  its  four 
wheels  like  a  tiger  upon  his  four  paws,  and,  recovering  it- 
self, rush  upon  the  man.  He,  adroit  and  skilful,  supple 
as  a  snake,  would  evade  these  rushes  rapid  as  flashes  of 
lightning;  but  the  blows  which  he  avoided  fell  on  the  ves- 
sel, and  continued  the  work  of  destruction. 

And  yet  the  man  continued  the  fight.  At  times  even  it 
was  the  man  that  attacked  the  cannon.  He  crawled  along 
the  side  of  the  vessel,  his  handspike  and  rope  ready,  and 


432  HOW  TO  SPEAK  IN  PUBLIC 

the  gun  seemed  to  understand  him,  and  fly  as  tho  avoid- 
ing a  snare.  The  man,  formidable  from  his  reasoning  pow- 
ers, pursued  it. 

But  such  a  contest  could  not  last  long.  The  gun  seemed 
to  say  to  itself,  "Come,  I  must  finish  this,"  and  remained 
quiescent.  All  felt  that  the  end  was  at  hand.  The  cannon, 
as  tho  in  doubt,  seemed  to  have,  or  indeed  had — for  to  all  it 
appeared  to  be  endued  with  reasoning  powers — a  ferocious 
premeditated  design;  it  threw  itself  on  the  gunner. 

He  sprang  on  one  side,  and  let  it  pass  by  him,  crying 
out  with  a  mocking  laugh,  "Try  that  again."  The  gun, 
as  if  furious,  dashed  to  pieces  a  carronade  on  the  port  side, 
and  then,  as  tho  launched  by  the  invisible  sling  that  directed 
its  movements,  it  rushed  upon  the  man,  who  was  standing 
at  the  starboard  side. 

The  man  evaded  the  attack. 

Three  more  carronades  yielded  to  the  blows  of  the  gun, 
then,  as  tho  blinded,  and  unconscious  of  what  it  was  doing, 
it  turned  away  from  the  man,  and,  rolling  from  the  stern 
to  the  bow,  injured  the  stern,  and  knocked  a  hole  in  the 
planking  of  the  prow.  The  gunner  had  takon  refuge  at 
the  foot  of  the  ladder  near  to  the  old  man,  who  was  looking 
on.  The  gun  appeared  to  perceive  this,  and  without  taking 
the  trouble  to  turn  round,  rushed  backward  upon  the  man 
with  the  rapidity  of  the  blow  of  an  ax. 

The  man,  pinned  against  the  side,  seemed  lost 

All  the  crew  uttered  a  cry  of  terror. 

But  the  old  passenger,  who  up  to  this  moment  had  seemed 
motionless,  rushed  forward  with  a  celerity  exceeding  all 
the  rapid  rushes  of  the  gun ;  he  seized  a  bale  of  false  assign- 
ats,  and,  at  the  risk  of  being  crushed,  succeeded  in  throw- 
ing it  under  the  wheels  of  the  carronade.  This  action,  de- 


SELECTIONS  FOR  PRACTISE  433 

cisive,  tho  full  of  peril,  could  not  have  been  executed  with 
more  decision  and  promptitude  by  a  man  thoroughly  trained 
to  all  the  rules  and  regulations  laid  down  in  Durosel's  work 
on  the  * '  Maneuvering  of  Great  Guns  at  Sea. ' ' 

The  bale  had  the  effect  of  a  break, — a  pebble  may  stop 
the  descent  of  a  mass  of  stone,  a  branch  may  turn  the  course 
of  an  avalanche.  The  carronade  staggered.  The  gunner, 
taking  advantage  of  this  formidable  assistance,  plunged  his 
handspike  between  the  spokes  of  one  of  the  hind  wheels. 
The  gun  stopped.  It  rocked  to  and  fro.  The  man,  using 
the  bar  as  a  lever,  shook  it  backward  and  forward.  The 
enormous  mass  turned  over  with  the  clash  of  a  falling 
bell,  and  the  man,  darting  on  it  headlong,  bathed  in  per- 
spiration, passed  the  slip-knot  round  the  neck  of  the  bronze 
monster  which  he  had  succeeded  in  bringing  to  the  ground. 

It  was  all  over.  Man  was  the  conqueror.  The  ant  had 
defeated  the  mastodon, — the  pigmy  had  made  captive  the 
thunder. 

The  sailors  and  the  marines  clapped  their  hands  for  joy. 

The  crew  rushed  forward  with  chains  and  cables,  and 
in  an  instant  the  gun  was  safely  secured  again. 

The  gunner  saluted  the  passenger. 

"Sir,"  said  he,  "you  have  saved  my  life.'* 

The  old  man,  who  had  resumed  his  calm  immobility,  made 
no  reply. 

While  the  crew  were  hastily  repairing  the  damage  done 
to  the  lower  deck,  stopping  the  leaks,  and  getting  the  guns 
which  had  escaped  damage  into  position  again,  the  old  pas- 
senger had  ascended  to  the  upper  deck. 

He  was  leaning  against  the  mainmast.  He  had  taken  no 
notice  of  the  operations  that  were  going  on  in  the  vessel. 
The  Chevalier  had  arranged  the  marines  in  two  lines  on 


434  HOW  TO  SPEAK  IN  PUBLIC 

each  side  of  the  mainmast,  and  at  a  whistle  from  the  boat- 
swain, the  crew,  who  were  occupied  in  the  rigging,  took  up 
their  position  on  the  yards.  The  Count  advanced  toward 
the  old  passenger;  behind  him  walked  a  man  with  haggard 
features,  panting  for  breath,  his  dress  torn  and  disordered, 
and  yet  with  a  smile  of  satisfaction  on  his  face. 

It  was  the  gunner  who  had  at  the  right  moment  displayed 
his  skill  as  a  tamer  of  monsters,  and  who  had  vanquished 
the  rebellious  cannon.  The  count  saluted  in  military  fash- 
ion the  old  man  clothed  as  a  peasant,  and  said: 

1 1  General,  here  is  the  man. ' ' 

The  gunner  stood  upright  in  the  attitude  of  attention, 
his  eyes  fixed  upon  the  ground. 

The  Count  continued: 

"General,  considering  the  act  performed  by  this  man, 
do  you  not  think  that  we,  his  superiors,  should  take  some 
notice  of  the  matter?" 

"I  think  we  should,"  replied  the  old  man. 

"Will  you  be  good  enough  to  give  your  orders  then?" 

"  It  is  for  you  to  give  them,  you  are  the  captain. ' ' 

"But  you  are  the  general." 

The  old  man  cast  a  keen  glance  on  the  gunner. 

"Come  near,"  said  he. 

The  gunner  advanced  a  step. 

The  old  man,  turning  to  the  Count,  took  from  his  breast 
the  Cross  of  Saint  Louis,  and  fastened  it  on  the  jacket  of 
the  gunner. 

'  *  Hurrah ! ' '  cried  the  sailors. 

The  marines  presented  arms. 

Then  the  old  passenger,  pointing  his  finger  at  the  aston- 
ished gunner,  exclaimed: 

1 '  And  now  let  them  shoot  this  man ! ' ' 


SELECTIONS  FOR  PRACTISE  435 

Applause  gave  way  to  surprise. 

Then,  in  the  midst  of  a  sepulchral  silence,  the  old  man 
raised  his  voice  and  said,  "An  act  of  negligence  has  com- 
promised the  safety  of  the  vessel.  At  this  moment  perhaps 
we  are  lost.  To  be  at  sea,  is  to  be  in  the  presence  of  the 
enemy.  A  vessel  on  a  voyage  is  like  an  army  ready  to  give 
battle.  The  storm  may  not  be  visible,  but  it  is  not  far  away. 
The  sea  is  an  ambush.  All  faults  committed  in  the  presence 
of  the  enemy  are  punishable  with  death.  No  fault  is  rep- 
.  arable.  Courage  will  be  recompensed,  and  neglect  pun- 
ished." 

The  words  fell  from  his  lips  one  after  the  other  slowly 
and  sternly  with  a  sort  of  inexorable  cadence,  like  the 
blows  of  an  ax  upon  an  oak. 

Then  the  old  man,  looking  at  the  marines,  added, 

"Do  your  duty." 

The  man  on  whose  breast  the  Cross  of  Saint  Louis  shone 
bent  his  head. 

At  a  sign  from  the  Count  the  marines  descended  to  the 
lower  deck  and  brought  up  a  hammock.  The  chaplain  of 
the  vessel,  who  since  its  departure  had  been  at  prayer  in 
the  officers'  cabin,  accompanied  the  two  sailors;  a  sergeant 
detailed  twelve  privates  from  the  marines  and  drew  them 
up  in  a  double-rank.  The  gunner  without  a  word  moved 
forward  and  placed  himself  between  them.  The  chaplain 
with  the  crucifix  raised  in  his  hand  took  up  his  position  near 
the  prisoner. 

The  sergeant  gave  the  word  of  command. 

"March." 

The  firing  party  moved  forward  at  a  slow  pace,  followed 
by  two  sailors  carrying  the  hammock. 

There  was  a  melancholy  silence  all  over  the  ship.     Tn 


436  HOW  TO  SPEAK  IN  PUBLIC 

the  distance  the  tempest  moaned.  A  few  moments  after- 
ward a  volley  crashed  through  the  gloom,  there  was  a 
bright  flash,  then  all  was  darkness  and  silence,  and  some- 
thing fell  into  the  sea  with  a  heavy  splash. 


TIME'S  SILENT  LESSON 

Upon  a  cliff  that  frowned  above  the  sea 
I  saw  a  white-haired  man.    His  form  was  bowed 
As  by  the  weight  of  years;  but  in  his  eye 
Glowed  the  pure  fire  of  an  immortal  youth. 
His  thin  and  tremulous  hand  upheld  a  glass 
Filled  with  bright  sands  of  gold,  and  as  he  bent 
Above  the  tide  that  ever  surged  below, 
He  let  the  glittering  contents  of  his  glass 
Fall,  one  by  one,  into  the  mystic  depths 
Of  that  unf athomed  sea.     So  far  removed 
The  gulf  wherein  they  fell,  no  echo  came 
Back  to  the  listening  ear.    Once  sunken  there, 
Those  shining  particles  of  rarest  worth 
Were  lost  forevermore. 

The  while  I  watched 
This  silent  toiler  at  his  silent  task, 
A  rosy  boy  came  bounding  to  the  spot. 
He  paused  awhile  to  note,  with  pleased  surprise, 
The  ancient  man;  and  then  his  tuneful  voice 
Rang  out  the  music  of  his  merry  thoughts. 
"Ho!  father,  ho!  that's  pleasant  work  of  thine; 
I'd  like  right  well  to  let  those  treasures  fall. 
How  bright  they  sparkle  ere  they  sink  from  sight! 


SELECTIONS  FOR  PRACTISE  437 

One,  two,  three,  four.    But  ah!  they  go  too  slow. 
Lend  me  the  glass;  I'll  shake  its  glittering  sands, 
And  then  you'll  see  a  dazzling  shower  of  gold 
Go  merrily  dancing  down." 

No  answer  came 

To  this  sweet  childish  plea.     The  aged  man 
Paused  not,  nor  turned  an  instant  from  his  work, 
But,  like  a  faithful  steward,  who  must  keep 
Exact  account  of  what  he  meteth  out, 
His  cautious  hand  to  its  appointed  task 
Kept  steadiest  movement  still. 

Now,  like  the  dawn 

That  breaks  in  summer  skies — so  fair,  so  fresh, 
So  rosy  sweet — came  forth  a  youthful  maid. 
She  smiled,  and  sudden  sunshine  seemed  to  flash 
Its  morning  splendor  o'er  that  rugged  cliff; 
She  spake,  and  listening  echo  caught  the  tones, 
And  laughed  them  back  so  tunefully,  that  all 
The  summer  air  rippled  with  sweetest  sound. 
These  were  her  words: 

"0  venerable  man! 

If  thou  wouldst  be  the  friend  of  friendless  souls ; 
If  thou  wouldst  aid  two  fond  and  faithful  hearts, 
List  to  me  now.    My  own  true  lover  waits 
The  tender  signal  of  the  evening  star, — 
Waits  for  its  sacred  light  to  guide  him  here. 
We  dare  not  meet,  save  when  night's  friendly  veil 
Enfolds  and  hides  us  from  the  angry  eyes 
That  frown  upon  our  love.    We  have  no  day 


438  HOW  TO  SPEAK  IN  PUBLIC 

Save  in  each  other's  smiles.    Thy  hand  alone 

Can  speed  the  lagging  moments  on  their  way, 

And  bring  the  hour  we  consecrate  to  joy. 

Then  shake  your  glass,  good  father,  shake  the  sands, 

And  send  them  flying  faster  on  their  course. " 

Untempted  yet  by  that  alluring  voice, 
Unsoftened  by  its  sweet  and  tender  plea, 
The  Ancient  One,  still  faithful  to  his  trust, 
As  all  must  be  who  have  great  deeds  to  do, 
Toiled  on,  and  on,  with  steadfast  spirit  still, 
At  his  appointed  task. 

Another  came, — 

A  pallid  man,  with  eyes  of  lurid  fire ; 
He  clutched  the  outstretched  hand  that  held  the  glass, 
And  in  a  hoarse,  wild  whisper,  sternly  said: 
"Hold!  dotard,  hold!    Waste  not  those  precious  sands. 
My  doom  is  fixed,  and  by  to-morrow's  sun 
The  avengers  of  the  law  will  take  my  life. 
Each  sparkling  grain  you  scatter  in  yon  gulf 
Is  dearer  to  my  soul  than  mines  of  gold. 
I  have  brief  space  for  penitence  and  prayer: 
Keep,  keep  the  golden  moments  till  I  make 
My  peace  with  Heaven.    Look!    Could  I  coin 
These  drops  of  anguish  which  bedew  my  brow, 
And  these  hot  tears  to  showers  of  priceless  gems, 
I'd  give  them  all  to  have  thee  stay  thy  task!" 

Still  no  reply,  no  token  that  he  heard 

These  varied  pleas,  came  from  that  stern  old  man. 

Silent  and  calm,  as  when  the  stately  march 


SELECTIONS  FOR  PRACTISE  439 

Of  untold  ages  first  began  their  course, 
He  steadily  measured  every  golden  grain, 
That  he  might  render  to  the  Eternal  Mind 
That  ruled  above  a  faithful  record  still 
Of  every  precious  treasure  meted  out 
To  the  dark  gulf  below. 

0  human  hearts! 

So  fickle  and  so  thoughtless — glad  to-day 
To  have  the  moments  fly,  to-morrow  grieved 
Te  see  them  go  so  fleetly — heed,  I  pray, 
The  vision  that  I  saw.    Fret  not  Time's  ear 
With  vain  and  weak  appeals,  but  rather  take 
A  lesson  from  his  teaching.     Do  your  work, 
What'er  in  life  it  be,  as  he  doth  his, 
With  purpose  firm,  and  with  unfaltering  zeal.  • 


THE  BATTLE  OF  WATERLOO 

BY  LORD  BYRON 

There  was  a  sound  of  revelry  by  night, 

And  Belgium's  capital  had  gathered  then 
Her  beauty  and  her  chivalry;  and  bright 

The  lamps  shone  o'er  fair  women  and  brave  men; 

A  thousand  hearts  beat  happily ;  and  when 
Music  arose  with  its  voluptuous  swell, 

Soft  eyes  looked  love  to  eyes  which  spake  again, 
And  all  went  merry  as  a  marriage-bell : 
But  hush!  hark!  a  deep  sound  strikes  like  a  rising  knell! 


440  HOW  TO  SPEAK  IN  PUBLIC 

Did  ye  not  hear  it  ?— No ;   'twas  but  the  wind, 

Or  a  car  rattling  o  'er  the  stony  street ; 
On  with  the  dance !    Let  joy  be  unconfined ; 

No  sleep  till  morn,  when  Youth  and  Pleasure  meet; 

To  chase  the  glowing  hours  with  flying  feet — 
But  hark ! — that  heavy  sound  breaks  in  once  more, 

As  if  the  clouds  its  echo  would  repeat; 
And  nearer,  clearer,  deadlier  than  before ! 
Arm !  arm !  it  is — it  is  the  cannon 's  opening  roar ! 

Within  a  windowed  niche  of  that  high  hall 

Sate  Brunswick's  fated  chieftain;  he  did  hear 
That  sound  the  first  amidst  the  festival, 

And  caught  its  tone  with  Death's  prophetic  ear; 

And  when  they  smiled  because  he  deemed  it  near, 
His  heart  more  truly  knew -that  peal  too  well 

Which  stretched  his  father  on  a  bloody  bier, 
And  roused  the  vengeance  blood  alone  could  quell : 
He  rushed  into  the  field,  and,  foremost  fighting,  fell. 

Ah!  then  and  there  was  hurrying  to  and  fro, 

And  gathering  tears  and  tremblings  of  distress, 
And  cheeks  all  pale,  which  but  an  hour  ago 

Blushed  at  the  praise  of  their  own  loveliness; 

And  there  were  sudden  partings,  such  as  press 
The  life  from  out  young  hearts,  and  choking  sighs 

Which  ne  'er  might  be  repeated :  who  could  guess 
If  ever  more  should  meet  those  mutual  eyes, 
Since  upon  night  so  sweet  such  awful  morn  could  rise? 

And  there  was  mounting  in  hot  haste:  the  steed, 
The  mustering  squadron,  and  the  clattering  car, 


SELECTIONS  FOR  PRACTISE  441 

Went  pouring  forward  with  impetuous  speed, 

And  swiftly  forming  in  the  ranks  of  war; 

And  the  deep  thunder  peal  on  peal  afar ; 
And  near,  the  beat  of  the  alarming  drum 

Roused  up  the  soldier  ere  the  morning  star ; 
While  thronged  the  citizens  with  terror  dumb, 
Or  whispering,  with  white  lips,  "The  foe!     They  come! 
they  come ! ' ' 

And  wild  and  high  the  "Camerons'  gathering"  rose! 

The  war-note  of  Lochiel,  which  Albyn's  hills 
Have  heard, — and  heard,  too,  have  her  Saxon  foes : 

How  in  the  noon  of  night  that  pibroch  thrills, 

Savage  and  shrill !    But  with  the  breath  which  fills 
Their  mountain-pipe,  so  fill  the  mountaineers 

With  the  fierce  native  daring  which  instils 
The  stirring  memory  of  a  thousand  years, 
And  Evan 's,  Donald 's  fame,  rings  in  each  clansman 's  ears ! 

And  Ardennes  waves  above  them  her  green  leaves, 

Dewy  with  Nature's  tear-drops,  as  they  pass, 
Grieving,  if  aught  inanimate  e  'er  grieves, 

Over  the  unreturning  brave, — alas! 

Ere  evening  to  be  trodden  like  the  grass 
Which  now  beneath  them,  but  above  shall  grow 

In  its  next  verdure,  when  this  fiery  mass 
Of  living  valor,  rolling  on  the  foe, 
And  burning  with  high  hope,  shall  molder  cold  and  low. 

Last  noon  beheld  them  full  of  lusty  life, 

Last  eve  in  Beauty's  circle  proudly  gay, 
The  midnight  brought  the  signal-sound  of  strife, 


442  HOW  TO  SPEAK  IN  PUBLIC 

The  morn  the  marshaling  in  arms, — the  day, 

Battle's  magnificently  stern  array! 
The  thunder-clouds  close  o'er  it,  which  when  rent, 
.  The  earth  is  covered  thick  with  other  clay, 
Which  her  own  clay  shall  cover,  heaped  and  pent, 
Eider  and  horse — friend,  foe — in  one  red  burial  blent! 


ODE  ON  SAINT  CECILIA'S  DAY 

BY  JOHN  DRYDEN 

From  Harmony,  from  heavenly  Harmony, 

This  universal  frame  began: 
When  Nature  underneath  a  heap 

Of  jarring  atoms  lay 
And  could  not  heave  her  head, 
The  tuneful  voice  was  heard  from  high, 

Arise,  ye  more  than  dead! 
Then  cold  and  hot  and  moist  and  dry 
In  order  to  their  stations  leap, 
And  Music's  power  obey. 
From  harmony,  from  heavenly  harmony 
This  universal  frame  began : 
From  harmony  to  harmony 
Through  all  the  compass  of  the  notes  it  ran, 
The  diapason  closing  full  in  Man. 

What  passion  can  not  Music  raise  and  quell? 

When  Jubal  struck  the  chorded  shell 
His  listening  brethren  stood  around, 
And,  wondering,  on  their  faces  fell 
To  worship  that  celestial  sound. 


SELECTIONS  FOR  PRACTISE  443 

Less  than  a  God  they  thought  there  could  not  dwell 

Within  the  hollow  of  that  shell 

That  spoke  so  sweetly  and  so  well. 
What  passion  can  not  Music  raise  and  quell  ? 

The  trumpet's  loud  clangor 

Excites  us  to  arms, 
With  shrill  notes  of  anger 

And  mortal  alarms. 
The  double  double  double  beat 

Of  the  thundering  drum 
Cries:   "Hark!  the  foes  come; 
Charge,  charge,  'tis  too  late  to  retreat !" 

The  soft  complaining  flute 

In  dying  notes  discovers 

The  woes  of  hopeless  lovers, 
Whose  dirge  is  whisper  'd  by  the  warbling  lute. 

Sharp  violins  proclaim 
Their  jealous  pangs  and  desperation, 
Fury,  frantic  indignation, 
Depth  of  pains,  and  height  of  passion 

For  the  fair  disdainful  dame. 

But  oh !  what  art  can  teach, 
What  human  voice  can  reach 

The  sacred  organ's  praise? 
Notes  inspiring  holy  love, 
Notes  that  wing  their  heavenly  ways 

To  mend  the  choirs  above. 


444  HOW  TO  SPEAK  IN  PUBLIC 

Orpheus  could  lead  the  savage  race, 
And  trees  uprooted  left  their  place 

Sequacious  of  the  lyre : 
But  bright  Cecilia  raised  the  wonder  higher 
When  to  her  Organ  vocal  breath  was  given 
An  Angel  heard,  and  straight  appear 'd — 

Mistaking  Earth  for  Heaven ! 

Grand  Chorus 

As  from  the  power  of  sacred  lays 

The  spheres  began  to  move, 
And  sung  the  great  Creator's  praise 

To  all  the  blest  above ; 
So  when  the  last  and  dreadful  hour 
This  crumbling  pageant  shall  devour, 
The  trumpet  shall  be  heard  on  high, 
The  dead  shall  live,  the  living  die, 
And  Music  shall  untune  the  sky. 


WILLIAM  TELL 
BY   WM.   BAINE 

" Place  there  the  boy,"  the  tyrant  said;  "fix  me  the  apple 
on  his  head.  Ha!  rebel, — now!  there  is  a  fair  mark  for 
thy  shaft :  there  try  thy  boasted  archer-craft!"  and  hoarsely 
the  dark  Austrian  laughed.  With  quivering  brow  the 
Switzer  gazed ;  his  cheek  grew  pale ;  his  bold  lips  throbbed, 
as  if  would  fail  their  laboring  breath.  "Ha!  so  you 
blench?"  fierce  Gesler  cried;  "I've  conquered,  slave,  thy 


SELECTIONS  FOR  PRACTISE  445 

soul  of  pride!"  No  word  to  that  stern  taunt  replied, — all 
still  as  death.  ' '  And  what  the  meed  ? "  at  length  Tell  asked. 
* '  Bold  fool !  when  slaves  like  thee  are  tasked,  it  is  my  will ! 
But  that  thine  eye  may  keener  be,  and  nerved  to  such  nice 
archery,  if  thou  succeed 'st  thou  goest  free.  What!  pause 
ye  still  ?  Give  him  a  bow  and  arrow  there, — one  shaft,  but 
one."  Madness,  despair,  and  tortured  love,  one  moment 
swept  the  Switzer's  face;  then  passed  away  each  stormy 
trace,  and  high  resolve  reigned  like  a  grace  caught  from 
above.  "I  take  thy  terms,"  he  murmured  low;  grasped 
eagerly  the  proffered  bow;  the  quiver  searched;  chose  out 
an  arrow  keen  and  long,  fit  for  a  sinewy  arm  and  strong; 
placed  it  upon  the  sounding  thong,  the  tough  yew  arched. 
Deep  stillness  fell  on  all  around ;  through  that  dense  crowd 
was  heard  no  sound  of  step  or  word.  All  watched  with 
fixed  and  shuddering  eye,  to  see  that  fearful  arrow  fly. 
The  light  wind  died  into  a  sigh,  and  scarcely  stirred. 

The  gallant  boy  stood  firm  and  mute :  he  saw  the  strong 
bow  curved  to  shoot,  yet  never  moved.  He  knew  that  pale 
fear  ne  'er  unmanned  the  daring  coolness  of  that  hand :  he 
knew  it  was  the  father  scanned  the  boy  he  loved.  Slow 
rose  the  shaft ;  it  trembled — hung.  ' '  My  only  boy ! ' '  gasped 
on  his  tongue.  He  could  not  aim.  '  *  Ha ! ' '  cried  the  tyrant, 
' '  doth  he  quail  ?  He  shakes !  His  haughty  brow  is  pale ! ' ' 
" Shoot!"  cried  a  low  voice,  " canst  thou  fail?  Shoot,  in 
Heaven's  name!"  Again  the  drooping  shaft  he  took,  and 
cast  to  heaven  one  burning  looky  of  all  doubts  reft.  "Be 
firm,  my  boy!"  was  all  he  said.  He  drew  the  bow — the 
arrow  fled ;  the  apple  left  the  stripling's  head.  "  'Tis  cleft ! 
'tis  cleft!"  And  cleft  it  was,  and  Tell  was  free.  Quick 
the  brave  boy  was  at  his  knee,  with  flushing  cheek ;  but  ere 
his  sire  his  child  embraced,  the  baffled  Austrian  cried  in 


446  HOW  TO  SPEAK  IN  PUBLIC 

haste,  "An  arrow  in  thy  belt  is  placed — what  means  it? 
Speak!"  "To  smite  thee,  tyrant,  to  the  heart,  had  Heaven 
so  willed  it.  that  my  dart  touched  this,  my  boy ! "  "  Treason ! 
Rebellion!  Chain  the  slave!"  A  hundred  swords  around 
him  wave;  and  hate  to  Gesler's  features  gave  infuriate  joy. 
They  chained  the  Switzer,  arm  and  limb;  they  racked  him 
till  his  eyes  grew  dim,  and  reeled  his  brain.  Nor  groan,  nor 
pain-rung  prayer  gave  he;  but  smiled,  beneath  his  belt  to 
see  that  shaft,  whose  point  he  swore  should  be  not  sped  in 
vain.  And  that  one  arrow  found  its  goal,  red  with  revenge, 
in  Gesler's  soul,  when  Lucerne's  lake  heard  him  his  felon 
soul  out-moan ;  and  Freedom 's  call  abroad  was  blown,  and 
Switzerland,  a  giant  grown,  her  fetters  brake.  From  hill 
to  hill  the  summons  flew,  from  lake  to  lake  that  tempest 
grew  with  wakening  swell ;  till  balked  Oppression  crouched 
in  shame,  and  Austrian  haughtiness  grew  tame,  and  Free- 
dom's watchword  was  the  name  of — William  Tell. 


THE  DIVER 

BY   SCHILLER 

' '  Oh,  where  is  the  knight  or  the  squire  so  bold 
As  to  dive  to  the  howling  charybdis  below  ? 
I  cast  in  the  whirlpool  a  goblet  of  gold, 
And  o  'er  it  already  the  dark  waters  flow ; 
Whoever  to  me  may  the  goblet  bring 
Shall  have  for  his  guerdon  that  gift  of  his  king." 

And  the  knights  and  the  squires  that  gathered  around 
Stood  silent,  and  fixed  on  the  ocean  their  eyes : 
They  looked  on  the  dismal  and  savage  profound, 


SELECTIONS  FOR  PRACTISE  447 

And  the  peril  chilled  back  every  thought  of  the  prize. 
And  thrice  spoke  the  monarch,  ' '  The  cup  to  win, 
Is  there  never  a  wight  who  will  venture  in  ? ' ' 

And  all,  as  before,  heard  in  silence  the  king, 
Till  a  youth  with  an  aspect  unfearing  but  gentle, 
'Mid  the  tremulous  squires,  stepped  out  from  the  ring, 
Unbuckling  his  girdle,  and  doffing  his  mantle ; 
And  the  murmuring  crowd,  as  they  parted  asunder, 
On  the  stately  boy  cast  their  looks  of  wonder, 
As  he  strode  to  the  marge  of  the  summit,  and  gave 
One  glance  on  the  gulf  of  that  merciless  main, 
And  o  'er  him  the  breakers  mysteriously  rolled, 
And  the  giant-mouth  closed  on  the  swimmer  so  bold. 

And  lo !  from  the  heart  of  that  far-floating  gloom 
What  gleams  on  the  darkness  so  swanlike  and  white  ? 
Lo !  an  arm  and  a  neck,  glancing  up  from  the  tomb  !-^ 
They  battle — the  Man's  with  the  Element's  might. 
It  is  he !  it  is  he !  in  his  left  hand  behold, 
As  a  sign,  as  a  joy,  shines  the  goblet  of  gold ! 

And  he  comes  with  the  crowd  in  their  clamor  and  glee ; 
And  the  goblet  his  daring  has  won  from  the  water 
He  lifts  to  the  king  as  he  sinks  on  his  knee ; 
And  the  king  from  her  maidens  has  beckoned  his  daughter 
And  he  bade  her  the  wine  to  his  cup-bearer  bring, 
And  thus  spake  the  diver,  ' '  Long  life  to  the  king ! 

"  Happy  they  whom  the  rose-hues  of  daylight  rejoice, 
The  air  and  the  sky  that  to  mortals  are  given ! 
May  the  horror  below  nevermore  find  a  voice, 


448  HOW  TO  SPEAK  IN  PUBLIC 

Nor  man  stretch  too  far  the  wide  mercy  of  Heaven, 
Nevermore,  nevermore,  may  he  lift  from  the  mirror, 
The  veil  which  is  woven  with  night  and  with  terror ! 

' '  Quick  brightening  like  lightning,  it  tore  me  along, 
Down,  down,  till  the  gush  of  a  torrent  at  play 
In  the  rocks  of  its  wilderness  caught  me,  and  strong 
As  the  wings  of  an  eagle,  it  whirled  me  away. 
Vain,  vain  were  my  struggles,  the  circle  had  won  me ; 
Bound  and  round,  in  its  dance,  the  wild  element  spun  me. 

"And  I  called  on  my  God,  and  my  God  heard  my  prayer, 
In  the  strength  of  my  need,  in  the  gasp  of  my  breath, 
And  showed  me  a  crag  that  rose  up  from  the  lair, 
And  I  clung  to  it,  trembling,  and  baffled  the  death. 
And,  safe  in  the  perils  around  me,  behold, 
On  the  spikes  of  the  coral,  the  goblet  of  gold ! 

"Methought,  as  I  gazed  through  the  darkness,  that  now 
A  hundred-limbed  creature  caught  sight  of  its  prey, 
And  darted — 0  God !  from  the  far  flaming  bough 
Of  the  coral,  I  swept  on  the  horrible  way ; 
And  it  seized  me — the  wave  with  its  wrath  and  its  roar — 
It  seized  me  to  save — King,  the  danger  is  o'er!" 

On  the  youth  gazed  the  monarch,  and  marveled ;  quoth  he, 
*  *  Bold  diver,  the  goblet  I  promised  is  thine ; 
And  this  ring  will  I  give,  a  fresh  guerdon  to  thee, 
Never  jewels  more  precious  shone  up  from  the  mine, 
If  thou'lt  bring  me  fresh  tidings,  and  venture  again 
To  say  what  lies  hid  in  the  innermost  main !" 


SELECTIONS  FOR  PRACTISE  449 

Then  out  spake  the  daughter  in  tender  emotion, 
"Ah!  father,  my  father,  what  more  can  there  rest? 
Enough  of  this  sport  with  the  pitiless  ocean ; 
He  has  served  thee  as  none  would,  thyself  hath  confest. 
If  nothing  can  slake  thy  wild  thirst  of  desire, 
Be  your  knights  not,  at  least,  put  to  shame  by  the  squire ! ' ' 

The  king  seized  the  goblet :  he  swung  it  on  high, 
And,  whirling,  it  fell  in  the  roar  of  the  tide ; 
"But  bring  back  that  goblet  again  to  my  eye, 
And  I  '11  hold  thee  the  dearest  that  rides  by  my  side ; 
And  thine  arms  shall  embrace  as  thy  bride,  I  decree, 
The  maiden  whose  pity  now  pleadeth  for  thee. ' ' 

In  his  heart,  as  he  listened,  there  leapt  the  wild  joy, 
And  the  hope  and  the  love  through  his  eyes  spoke  in  fire. 
On  that  bloom,  on  that  blush,  gazed  delighted  the  boy ; 
The  maiden  she  faints  at  the  feet  of  her  sire. 
Here  the  guerdon  divine,  there  the  danger  beneath ; 
He  resolves ! — To  the  strife  with  the  life  and  the  death ! 

They  hear  the  loud  surges  sweep  back  in  their  swell : 
Their  coming  the  thunder-sound  heralds  along! 
Fond  eyes  yet  are  tracking  the  spot  where  he  fell, 
They  come,  the  wild  waters,  in  tumult  and  throng, 
Rearing  up  to  the  cliff,  roaring  back  as  before ; 
But  no  wave  ever  brought  the  lost  youth  to  the  shore. 


450  HOW  TO  SPEAK  IN  PUBLIC 

SCENE  FROM  "THE  RIVALS" 
BY   SHERIDAN 

MRS.  MALAPROP  and  SIR  ANTHONY  ABSOLUTE. 

Mrs.  M.  There,  Sir  Anthony,  there  sits  the  deliberate 
simpleton,  who  wants  to  disgrace  her  family,  and  lavish 
herself  on  a  fellow  not  worth  a  shilling. 

Lydia.     Madam,  I  thought  you  once 

Mrs.  M.  You  thought,  miss !  I  don 't  know  any  business 
you  have  to  think  at  all :  thought  does  not  become  a  young 
woman.  But  the  point  we  would  request  of  you  is,  that 
you  will  promise  to  forget  this  fellow — to  illiterate  him, 
I  say,  from  your  memory. 

Lydia.  Ah,  madam,  our  memories  are  independent  of 
our  wills.  It  is  not  so  easy  to  forget. 

Mrs.  M.  But  I  say  it  is,  miss !  there  is  nothing  on  earth 
so  easy  as  to  forget,  if  a  person  chooses  to  set  about  it.  I  'm 
sure  I  Ve  as  much  forgot  your  poor  dear  uncle,  as  if  he  had 
never  existed :  and  I  thought  it  my  duty  so  to  do ;  and  let 
me  tell  you,  Lydia,  these  violent  memories  don't  become  a 
young  woman. 

Sir  A.  Why,  sure,  she  won't  pretend  to  remember  what 
she's  ordered  not?  ay,  this  comes  of  her  reading. 

Lydia.  What  crime,  madam,  have  I  committed,  to  be 
treated  thus? 

Mrs.  M.  Now  don't  attempt  to  extirpate  yourself  from 
the  matter;  you  know  I  have  proof  controvertible  of  it. 
But,  tell  me,  will  you  promise  to  do  as  you're  bid?  Will 
you  take  a  husband  of  your  friends'  choosing? 


SELECTIONS  FOR  PRACTISE  451 

Lydia.  Madam,  I  must  tell  you  plainly  that,  had  I  no 
preference  for  any  one  else,  the  choice  you  have  made  would 
be  my  aversion. 

Mrs.  M.  What  business  have  you,  miss,  with  preference 
and  aversion? — they  don't  become  a  young  woman;  and 
you  ought  to  know,  that  as  both  always  wear  off,  'tis  safest 
in  matrimony  to  begin  with  a  little  aversion.  I  am  sure 
I  hated  your  poor  dear  uncle  before  marriage  as  if  he'd 
been  a  blackamoor;  and  yet,  miss,  you  are  sensible  what 
a  wife  I  made! — and  when  it  pleased  heaven  to  release  me 
from  him,  'tis  unknown  what  tears  I  shed.  But  suppose 
we  were  going  to  give  you  another  choice,  will  you  promise 
us  to  give  up  this  Beverley? 

Lydia.  Could  I  belie  my  thoughts  so  far  as  to  give  that 
promise,  my  actions  would  certainly  as  far  belie  my  words. 

Mrs.  M.  Take  yourself  to  your  room; — you  are  fit  com- 
pany for  nothing  but  your  own  ill  humors. 

Lydia.  Willingly,  ma'am; — I  can  not  change  for  the 
worse.  [Exit. 

Mrs.  M.     There's  a  little  intricate  hussy  for  you! 

Sir  A.  It  is  not  to  be  wondered  at,  ma  'am ;  all  this  is  the 
natural  consequence  of  teaching  girls  to  read.  Had  I  a 
thousand  daughters,  by  heaven!  I'd  as  soon  have  them 
taught  the  black  art,  as  their  alphabet ! 

Mrs.  M.  Nay,  nay,  Sir  Anthony,  you  are  an  absolute 
misanthropy. 

Sir  A.  In  my  way  hither,  Mrs.  Malaprop,  I  observed 
your  niece 's  maid  coming  forth  from  a  circulating  library ! 
— she  had  a  book  in  each  hand — they  were  half-bound  vol- 
umes, with  marble  covers!  From  that  moment,  I  guessed 
how  full  of  duty  I  should  see  her  mistress ! 

Mrs.  M.     Those  are  vile  places,  indeed ! 


452  HOW  TO  SPEAK  IN  PUBLIC 

Sir  A.  Madam,  a  circulating  library  in  a  town  is  an 
evergreen  tree  of  diabolical  knowledge!  It  blossoms 
through  the  year! — and  depend  on  it,  Mrs.  Malaprop,  that 
they  who  are  so  fond  of  handling  the  leaves,  will  long  for 
the  fruit  at  last. 

Mrs.  M.  Fie,  fie,  Sir  Anthony,  you  surely  speak  lacon- 
ically. 

Sir  A.  Why,  Mrs.  Malaprop,  in  moderation,  now,  what 
would  you  have  a  woman  know? 

Mrs.  M.  Observe  me,  Sir  Anthony — I  would  by  no  means 
wish  a  daughter  of  mine  to  be  a  progeny  of  learning;  I 
don't  think  so  much  learning  becomes  a  young  woman.  For 
instance — I  would  never  let  her  meddle  with  Greek  or 
Hebrew,  or  algebra,  or  simony,  or  Fluxions,  or  paradoxes, 
or  such  inflammatory  branches  of  learning — neither  would 
it  be  necessary  for  her  to  handle  any  of  your  mathematical, 
astronomical,  diabolical  instruments;  but,  Sir  Anthony, 
I  would  send  her,  at  nine  years  old,  to  a  boarding-school, 
in  order  to  learn  a  little  ingenuity  and  artifice.  Then,  sir, 
she  should  have  a  supercilious  knowledge  in  accounts;  and 
as  she  grew  up,  I  would  have  her  instructed  in  geometry, 
that  she  might  know  something  of  the  contagious  countries ; 
— but  above  all,  Sir  Anthony,  she  should  be  mistress  of 
orthodoxy,  that  she  might  not  misspell  and  mispronounce 
words  so  shamefully  as  girls  usually  do;  and  likewise  that 
she  might  reprehend  the  true  meaning  of  what  she  is  say- 
ing. This,  Sir  Anthony,  is  what  I  would  have  a  woman 
know;  and  I  don't  think  there  is  a  superstitious  article  in  it. 

Sir  A.  Well,  well,  Mrs.  Malaprop,  I  will  dispute  the 
point  no  further  with  you;  tho,  I  must  confess,  that  you 
are  a  truly  moderate  and  polite  arguer,  for  almost  every 
third  word  you  say  is  on  my  side  of  the  question.  But, 


SELECTIONS  FOR  PRACTISE  453 

Mrs.  Malaprop,  to  the  more  important  point  in  debate — 
you  say,  you  have  no  objection  to  my  proposal? 

Mrs.  M.  None,  I  assure  you.  I  am  under  no  positive 
engagement  with  Mr.  Acres;  and  as  Lydia  is  so  obstinate 
against  him,  perhaps  your  son  may  have  better  success. 

Sir  A.  Well,  madam,  I  will  write  for  the  boy  directly. 
He  knows  not  a  syllable  of  this  yet,  tho  I  have  for  some 
time  had  the  proposal  in  my  head.  He  is  at  present  with 
his  regiment. 

Mrs.  M.  We  have  never  seen  your  son,  Sir  Anthony; 
but  I  hope  no  objection  on  his  side. 

Sir  A.  Objection — let  him  object  if  he  dare.  No,  no, 
Mrs.  Malaprop;  Jack  knows  that  the  least  demur  puts  me 
in  a  frenzy  directly.  My  process  was  always  very  simple: 
in  his  younger  days  'twas — "Jack,  do  this," — if  he  de- 
murred, I  knocked  him  down;  and  if  he  grumbled  at  that, 
I  always  sent  him  out  of  the  room. 

Mrs.  M.  Ay,  and  the  properest  way,  o'  my  conscience! 
nothing  is  so  conciliating  to  young  people  as  severity.  Well, 
Sir  Anthony,  I  shall  give  Mr.  Acres  his  discharge,  and 
prepare  Lydia  to  receive  your  son's  invocations;  and  I  hope 
you  will  represent  her  to  the  Captain  as  an  object  not  al- 
together illegible. 

Sir  A.  Madam,  I  will  handle  the  subject  prudently. 
Well,  I  must  leave  you ;  and  let  me  beg  you,  Mrs.  Malaprop, 
to  enforce  this  matter  roundly  to  the  girl — take  my  advice, 
keep  a  tight  hand;  if  she  rejects  this  proposal  clap  her 
under  lock  and  key ;  and  if  you  were  just  to  let  the  servants 
forget  to  bring  her  dinner  for  three  or  four  days,  you  can't 
conceive  how  she'd  come  about. 


454  HOW  TO  SPEAK  IN  PUBLIC 

ON  THE  EXPUNGING  RESOLUTIONS 
BY   HENRY   CLAY 

MR.  PRESIDENT  : — What  patriotic  purpose  is  to  be  accom- 
plished by  this  Expunging  resolution?  What  new  honor 
or  fresh  laurels  will  it  win  for  our  common  country?  Is 
the  power  of  the  Senate  so  vast  that  it  ought  to  be  circum- 
scribed, and  that  of  the  President  so  restricted  that  it  ought 
to  be  extended?  What  power  has  the  Senate?  None,  sep- 
arately. .  It  can  only  act  jointly  with  the  other  House,  or 
jointly  with  the  Executive.  And  altho  the  theory  of  the 
Constitution  supposes,  when  consulted  by  him,  it  may  freely 
give  an  affirmative  or  negative  response;  according  to  the 
practise  as  it  now  exists,  it  has  lost  the  faculty  of  pro- 
nouncing the  negative  monosyllable.  When  the  Senate  ex- 
presses its  deliberate  judgment,  in  the  form  of  resolution, 
that  resolution  has  no  compulsory  force,  but  appeals  only 
to  the  dispassionate  intelligence,  the  calm  reason,  and  the 
sober  judgment,  of  the  community.  The  Senate  has  no 
army,  no  navy,  no  patronage,  no  lucrative  offices,  no  glit- 
tering honors  to  bestow.  Around  us  there  is  no  swarm  of 
greedy  expectants,  rendering  us  homage,  anticipating  our 
wishes,  and  ready  to  execute  our  commands. 

How  is  it  with  the  President?  Is  he  powerless?  He  is 
felt  from  one  extremity  to  the  other  of  this  vast  Republic. 
By  means  of  principles  which  he  has  introduced,  and  inno- 
vations which  he  has  made  in  our  institutions,  alas !  but  too 
much  countenanced  by  Congress  and  a  confiding  people,  he 
exercises,  uncontrolled,  the  power  of  the  State.  In  one 
hand  he  holds  the  purse,  and  in  the  other  brandishes  the 
sword  of  the  country.  Myriads  of  dependents  and  parti- 


SELECTIONS  FOR  PRACTISE  455 

zans,  scattered  over  the  land,  are  ever  ready  to  sing  hosan- 
nas  to  him,  and  to  laud  to  the  skies  whatever  he  does.  He 
has  swept  over  the  government,  during  the  last  eight  years, 
like  a  tropical  tornado.  Every  department  exhibits  traces 
of  the  ravages  of  the  storm.  Take  as  one  example  the  Bank 
of  the  United  States.  No  institution  could  have  been  more 
popular  with  the  people,  with  Congress,  and  with  state 
legislatures.  None  ever  better  fulfilled  the  great  purposes 
of  its  establishment.  But  it  unfortunately  incurred  the  dis- 
pleasure of  the  President ;  he  spoke,  and  the  bank  lies  pros- 
trate. And  those  who  were  loudest  in  its  praise  are  now 
loudest  in  its  condemnation.  What  object  of  his  ambition 
is  unsatisfied  ?  When  disabled  from  age  any  longer  to  hold 
the  scepter  of  power,  he  designates  his  successor,  and  trans- 
mits it  to  his  favorite!  What  more  does  he  want?  Must 
we  blot,  deface,  and  mutilate  the  records  of  the  country,  to 
punish  the  presumptuousness  of  expressing  an  opinion  con- 
trary to  his  own? 

What  patriotic  purpose  is  to  be  accomplished  by  this 
Expunging  resolution  ?  Can  you  make  that  not  to  be  which 
has  been?  Can  you  eradicate  from  memory  and  from  his- 
tory the  fact  that  in  March,  1834,  a  majority  of  the  Senate 
of  the  United  States  passed  the  resolution  which  excites 
your  enmity  ?  Is  it  your  vain  and  wicked  object  to  arrogate 
to  yourselves  that  power  of  annihilating  the  past  which  has 
been  denied  to  Omnipotence  itself?  Do  you  intend  to 
thrust  your  hands  into  our  hearts,  and  to  pluck  out  the 
deeply  rooted  convictions  which  are  there?  Or  is  it  your 
design  merely  to  stigmatize  us?  You  cannot  stigmatize  us. 
"Ne'er  yet  did  base  dishonor  blur  our  name." 

Standing  securely  upon  our  conscious  rectitude,  -and 
bearing  aloft  the  shield  of  the  Constitution  of  our  country, 


456  HOW  TO  SPEAK  IN  PUBLIC 

your  puny  efforts  are  impotent;  and  we  defy  all  your 
power.  Put  the  majority  of  1834  in  one  scale,  and  that 
by  which  this  Expunging  resolution  is  to  be  carried  in  the 
other,  and  let  truth  and  justice,  in  heaven  above  and  on 
earth  below,  and  liberty  and  patriotism,  decide  the  pre- 
ponderance. 

What  patriotic  purpose  is  to  be  accomplished  by  this 
Expunging  resolution?  Is  it  to  appease  the  wrath  and  to 
heal  the  wounded  pride  of  the  Chief  Magistrate  ?  If  he  be 
really  the  hero  that  his  friends  represent  him,  he  must  de- 
spise all  mean  condescension,  all  groveling  sycophancy, 
all  self -degradation  and  self-abasement.  He  would  reject, 
with  scorn  and  contempt,  as  unworthy  of  his  fame,  your 
black  scratches  and  your  baby  lines  in  the  fair  records  of 
his  country.  Black  lines!  Black  lines!  Sir,  I  hope  the 
Secretary  of  the  Senate  will  preserve  the  pen  with  which 
he  may  inscribe  them,  and  present  it  to  that  Senator  of  the 
majority  whom  he  may  select,  as  a  proud  trophy,  to  be 
transmitted  to  his  descendants.  And  hereafter,  when  we 
shall  lose  the  forms  of  our  free  institutions — all  that  now 
remain  to  us — some  future  American  monarch,  in  gratitude 
to  those  by  whose  means  he  has  been  enabled,  upon  the 
ruins  of  civil  liberty,  to  erect  a  throne,  and  to  commemorate 
especially  this  Expunging  resolution,  may  institute  a  new 
order  of  knighthood,  and  confer  on  it  the  appropriate  name 
of  "the  Knights  of  the  Black  Lines." 

But  why  should  I  detain  the  Senate,  or  needlessly  waste 
my  breath  in  fruitless  exertions?  The  decree  has  gone 
forth.  It  is  one  of  urgency,  too.  The  deed  is  to  be  done 
—that  foul  deed  which,  like  the  blood,  staining  the  hands 
of  the  guilty  Macbeth,  all  ocean's  waters  will  never  wash 
out.  Proceed,  then,  to  the  noble  work  which  lies  before 


SELECTIONS  FOR  PRACTISE  457 

you,  and,  like  other  skilful  executioners,  do  it  quickly. 
And  when  you  have  perpetrated  it,  go  home  to  the  people, 
and  tell  them  what  glorious  honors  you  have  achieved  for 
our  common  country.  Tell  them  that  you  have  extin- 
guished one  of  the  brightest  and  purest  lights  that  ever 
burned  at  the  altar  of  civil  liberty.  Tell  them  that  you 
have  silenced  one  of  the  noblest  batteries  that  ever  thun- 
dered in  defense  of  the  Constitution,  and  bravely  spiked 
the  cannon.  Tell  them  that,  henceforward,  no  matter  what 
daring  or  outrageous  act  any  President  may  perform,  you 
have  forever  hermetically  sealed  the  mouth  of  the  Senate. 
Tell  them  that  he  may  fearlessly  assume  what  powers  he 
pleases,  snatch  from  its  lawful  custody  the  public  purse, 
command  a  military  detachment  to  enter  the  halls  of  the 
Capitol,  overawe  Congress,  trample  down  the  Constitution, 
and  raze  every  bulwark  of  freedom;  but  that  the  Senate 
must  stand  mute,  in  silent  submission,  and  not  dare  to  raise 
its  opposing  voice.  Tell  them  that  it  must  wait  until  a 
House  of  Representatives,  humbled  and  subdued  like  itself, 
and  a  majority  of  it  composed  of  the  partizans  of  the  Presi- 
dent, shall  prefer  articles  of  impeachment.  Tell  them, 
finally,  that  you  have  restored  the  glorious  doctrine  of 
passive  obedience  and  non-resistance.  And,  if  the  people 
do  not  pour  out  their  indignation  and  imprecations,  I  have 
yet  to  learn  the  character  of  American  freemen. 


458  HOW  TO  SPEAK  IN  PUBLIC 

SPARTACUS  TO  THE  GLADIATORS  AT  CAPUA 

BY  ELIJAH   KELLOGG 

Ye  call  me  chief;  and  ye  do  well  to  call  him  chief  who 
for  twelve  long  years  has  met  upon  the  arena  every  shape 
of  man  or  beast  the  broad  Empire  of  Rome  could  furnish, 
and  who  never  yet  lowered  his  arm.  If  there  be  one  among 
you  who  can  say  that,  ever,  in  public  fight  or  private  brawl, 
my  actions  did  belie  my  tongue,  let  him  stand  forth  and 
say  it.  If  there  be  three  in  all  your  company  dare  face  me 
on  the  bloody  sand,  let  them  come  on.  And  yet  I  was  not 
always  thus — a  hired  butcher,  a  savage  chief  of  still  more 
savage  men.  My  ancestors  came  from  old  Sparta,  and  set- 
tled among  the  vine-clad  rocks  and  citron  groves  o.f  Syra- 
sella.  My  early  life  ran  quiet  as  the  brooks  by  which  I 
sported;  and  when,  at  noon,  I  gathered  the  sheep  beneath 
the  shade,  and  played  upon  the  shepherd's  flute,  there  was 
a  friend,  the  son  of  a  neighbor,  to  join  me  in  the  pastime. 
We  led  our  flocks  to  the  same  pasture,  and  partook  together 
our  rustic  meal. 

One  evening,  after  the  sheep  were  folded,  and  we  were 
all  seated  beneath  the  myrtle  which  shaded  our  cottage,  my 
grandsire,  an  old  man,  was  telling  of  Marathon  and  Leuctra ; 
and  how,  in  ancient  times,  a  little  band  of  Spartans,  in  a 
defile  of  the  mountains,  had  withstood  a  whole  army.  I 
did  not  then  know  what  war  was;  but  my  cheeks  burned, 
I  know  not  why,  and  I  clasped  the  knees  of  that  venerable 
man,  until  my  mother,  parting  the  hair  from  off  my  fore- 
head, kissed  my  throbbing  temples,  and  bade  me  go  to  rest, 
and  think  no  more  of  those  old  tales  and  savage  wars. 


SELECTIONS  FOR  PRACTISE  459 

That  very  night  the  Romans  landed  on  our  coast.  I  saw 
the  breast  that  had  nourished  me  trampled  by  the  hoof  of 
the  war  horse — the  bleeding  body  of  my  father  flung  amidst 
the  blazing  rafters  of  our  dwelling !  To-day  I  killed  a  man 
in  the  arena;  and,  when  I  broke  his  helmet-clasps,  behold! 
he  was  my  friend!  He  knew  me,  smiled  faintly,  gasped 
and  died— the  same  sweet  smile  upon  his  lips  that  I  had 
marked,  when,  in  adventurous  boyhood,  we  scaled  the  lofty 
cliff  to  pluck  the  first  ripe  grapes,  and  bear  them  home  in 
childish  triumph !  I  told  the  pretor  that  the  dead  man  had 
been  my  friend,  generous  and  brave;  and  I  begged  that  I 
might  bear  away  the  body,  to  burn  it  on  a  funeral  pile, 
and  mourn  over  its  ashes.  Ay!  upon  my  knees,  amid  the 
dust  and  blood  of  the  arena,  I  begged  that  poor  boon,  while 
all  the  assembled  maids  and  matrons,  and  the  holy  virgins 
they  call  vestals,  and  the  rabble,  shouted  in  derision,  deem- 
ing it  rare  sport,  forsooth,  to  see  Rome's  fiercest  gladiator 
turn  pale  and  tremble  at  sight  of  that  piece  of  bleeding 
clay!  And  the  pretor  drew  back  as  if  I  were  pollution, 
and  sternly  said,  "Let  the  carrion  rot!  There  are  no  noble 
men  but  Romans. ' ' 

And  so,  fellow  gladiators,  must  you,  and  so  must  I,  die 
like  dogs !  0  Rome !  Rome !  thou  hast  been  a  tender  nurse 
to  me.  Ay!  thou  hast  given  to  that  poor,  gentle,  timid 
shepherd  lad,  who  never  knew  a  harsher  tone  than  a  flute- 
note,  muscles  of  iron  and  a  heart  of  flint;  taught  him  to 
drive  the  sword  through  plaited  mail  and  links  of  rugged 
brass,  and  warm  it  in  the  marrow  of  his  foe — to  gaze  into 
the  glaring  eyeballs  of  the  fierce  Numidian  lion,  even  as 
a  boy  upon  a  laughing  girl !  And  he  shall  pay  thee  back, 
until  the  yellow  Tiber  is  red  as  frothing  wine,  and  in  its 
deepest  ooze  thy  life-blood  lies  curdled ! 


460  HOW  TO  SPEAK  IN  PUBLIC 

Ye  stand  here  now  like  giants,  as  ye  are!  The  strength 
of  brass  is  in  your  toughened  sinews;  but  to-morrow  some 
Roman  Adonis,  breathing  sweet  perfume  from  his  curly 
locks,  shall  with  his  lily  fingers  pat  your  red  brawn,  and 
bet  his  sesterces  upon  your  blood.  Hark !  hear  ye  yon  lion 
roaring  in  his  den?  'Tis  three  days  since  he  has  tasted 
flesh;  but  to-morrow  he  shall  break  his  fast  upon  yours — 
and  a  dainty  meal  for  him  ye  will  be ! 

If  ye  are  beasts,  then  stand  here  like  fat  oxen,  waiting 
for  the  butcher 's  knife !  If  ye  are  men,  follow  me !  Strike 
down  yon  guard,  gain  the  mountain  passes,  and  then  do 
bloody  work,  as  did  your  sires  at  old  Thermopyla3!  Is 
Sparta  dead  ?  Is  the  old  Grecian  spirit  frozen  in  your  veins, 
that  you  do  crouch  and  cower  like  a  belabored  hound  be- 
neath his  master's  lash ?  O  comrades !  warriors !  Thracians ! 
If  we  must  fight,  let  us  fight  for  ourselves!  If  we  must 
slaughter,  let  us  slaughter  our  oppressors !  If  we  must  die, 
let  it  be  under  the  clear  sky,  by  the  bright  waters,  in  noble, 
honorable  battle. 


ON  THE  USE  OF  PRIVATE  JUDGMENT 

BY  JOHN  HENRY  NEWMAN 

By  the  right  of  private  judgment  in  matters  of  religious 
belief  and  practise,  is  ordinarily  meant  the  prerogative  con- 
sidered to  belong  to  each  individual  Christian,  of  ascer- 
taining and  deciding  for  himself  from  Scripture  what  is 
gospel  truth  and  what  is  not.  This  is  the  principle  main- 
tained in  theory,  as  a  sort  of  sacred  possession  or  palladium, 
by  the  Protestantism  of  this  day.  Romanism,  as  is  equally 


SELECTIONS  FOR  PRACTISE  461 

clear,  takes  the  opposite  extreme,  and  maintains  that 
nothing  is  absolutely  left  to  individual  judgment;  that  is, 
that  there  is  no  subject  in  religious  faith  and  conduct  on 
which  the  church  may  not  pronounce  a  decision  such  as  to 
supersede  the  private  judgment  and  compel  the  assent  of 
every  one  of  her  members.  The  English  church  takes  a 
middle  course  between  these  two.  It  considers  that  on  cer- 
tain definite  subjects  private  judgment  upon  the  text  of 
Scripture  has  been  superseded,  not  by  the  mere  author- 
itative sentence  of  the  church,  but  by  its  historical  tes- 
timony delivered  down  from  the  apostles.  To  these  subjects 
nothing  more  can  be  added,  unless,  indeed,  new  records  of 
primitive  Christianity  or  new  uninterrupted  traditions  of 
its  teaching  were  discoverable. 

The  Catholic  doctrines,  therefore,  of  the  Trinity,  incarna- 
tion, and  others  similar  to  these,  are,  as  we  maintain,  the 
true  interpretations  of  the  notices  contained  in  Scripture 
concerning  those  doctrines.  But  the  mere  Protestant  con- 
siders that  on  these  as  well  as  on  other  subjects  the  sacred 
text  is  left  to  the  good  pleasure  or  the  diligence  of  private 
men;  while  the  Romanist,  on  the  contrary,  views  it  as  in 
no  degree  subjected  to  individual  judgment,  except  from 
the  accident  of  the  church  having  not  yet  pronounced  on 
this  or  that  point  an  authoritative  and  final  decision. 

Now  these  extreme  theories  and  their  practical  results 
are  quite  intelligible;  whatever  be  their  faults,  want  of 
simplicity  is  not  one  of  them.  We  see  what  they  mean,  how 
they  work,  what  they  result  in.  But  the  middle  path 
adopted  by  the  English  church  can  not  be  so  easily  mastered 
by  the  mind:  first,  because  it  is  a  mean  and  has  in  conse- 
quence a  complex  nature,  involving  a  combination  of  prin- 
ciples and  depending  on  multiplied  conditions;  next,  be- 


462  HOW  TO  SPEAK  IN  PUBLIC 

cause  it  partakes  of  that  indeterminateness  which,  as  has 
been  already  observed,  is  to  a  certain  extent  a  characteristic 
of  English  theology;  lastly,  because  it  has  never  been  real- 
ized in  its  fulness  in  any  religious  community,  and  thereby 
brought  home  to  the  mind  through  the  senses.  What  has 
never  been  fairly  brought  into  operation  lies  open  to  various 
objections.  It  is  open  to  the  suspicion  of  not  admitting  of 
being  so ;  that  is,  of  being  what  is  commonly  understood  by 
a  mere  theory  of  fancy.  And  besides,  a  mean  system  really 
is  often  nothing  better  than  an  assemblage  of  words  and 
always  looks  such,  before  it  is  proved  to  be  something  more. 
For  instance,  if  we  knew  only  of  the  colors  white  and  black, 
and  heard  a  description  of  brown  or  gray,  and  were  told 
that  these  were  neither  white  nor  black,  but  something  like 
both,  yet  between  them,  we  should  be  tempted  to  conceive 
our  informant's  words  either  self -contradictory  or  alto- 
gether unmeaning;  as  if  it  were  plain  that  what  was  not 
white  must  be  black,  and  what  was  not  black  must  be  white. 
This  is  daily  instanced  in  the  view  taken  by  society  at  large 
of  such  persons — now,  alas !  a  comparatively  small  remnant 
who  follow  the  ancient  doctrines  and  customs  of  our  church, 
who  hold  to  the  creeds  and  sacraments,  keep  from  novelties, 
are  regular  in  their  devotions,  and  are  what  is  sometimes 
called,  almost  in  reproach,  ' '  orthodox. ' '  Worldly  men,  see- 
ing them  only  at  a  distance,  will  class  them  with  the  relig- 
ionists of  the  day;  the  religionists  of  the  day,  with  a  like 
superficial  glance  at  them,  call  them  worldly  and  carnal. 
Why  is  this  ?  Because  neither  party  can  fancy  any  medium 
between  itself  and  its  opposite,  and  each  connects  them  with 
the  other,  because  they  are  not  its  own. 

Feeling,  then,  the  disadvantages  under  which  the  An- 
glican doctrine  of  private  judgment  lies,  and  desirous  to 


SELECTIONS  FOR  PRACTISE  463 

give  it  something  more  of  meaning  and  reality  than  it  pop- 
ularly possesses,  I  shall  attempt  to  describe  it,  first  in  theory, 
and  then  as  if  reduced  to  practise. 

1.  Now,  if  man  is  in  a  state  of  trial,  and  his  trial  lies  in 
the  general  exercise  of  the  will,  and  the  choice  of  religion 
is  an  exercise  of  will,  and  always  implies  an  act  of  in- 
dividual judgment,  it  follows  that  such  acts  are  in  the 
number  of  those  by  which  he  is  tried,  and  for  which  he  is 
to  give  an  account  hereafter.  So  far  all  parties  must  be 
agreed,  that  without  private  judgment  there  is  no  respon- 
sibility; and  that  in  matter  of  fact  a  man's  own  mind,  and 
nothing  else,  is  the  cause  of  his  believing  or  not  believing, 
and  of  his  acting  or  not  acting  upon  his  belief.  Even  tho 
an  infallible  guidance  be  accorded,  a  man  must  have  a 
choice  of  resisting  it  or  not;  he  may  resist  it  if  he  pleases, 
as  Judas  was  traitor  to  his  Master.  Romanist,  I  consider, 
agrees  with  Protestant  so  far ;  the  question  in  dispute  being, 
what  are  the  means  which  are  to  direct  our  choice,  and  what 
is  the  due  manner  of  using  them.  This  is  the  point  to  which 
I  shall  direct  my  attention. 

The  means  which  are  given  us  to  form  our  judgment  by, 
exclusively  of  such  as  are  supernatural,  which  do  not  enter 
into  consideration,  are  various — partly  internal,  partly  ex- 
ternal. The  internal  means  of  judging  are  common  sense, 
natural  perception  of  right  and  wrong,  the  affections,  the 
imagination,  reason,  and  the  like.  The  external  are  such 
as  Scripture,  the  existing  church,  tradition,  Catholicity, 
learning,  antiquity,  and  the  national  faith.  Popular  Prot- 
estantism would  deprive  us  of  all  these  external  means,  ex- 
cept the  text  of  holy  Scripture ;  as  if,  I  suppose,  upon  the 
antecedent  notion  that  when  God  speaks  by  inspiration  all 
other  external  means  are  superseded.  But  this  is  an  arbi- 


464  HOW  TO  SPEAK  IN  PUBLIC 

trary  decision,  contrary  to  facts;  for  unless  inspiration 
made  use  of  a  universal  language,  learning  at  least  must 
be  necessary  to  ascertain  the  meaning  of  the  particular 
language  selected;  and  if  one  external  aid  be  adopted,  of 
course  all  antecedent  objection  to  any  other  vanishes.  This 
notion,  then,  tho  commonly  taken  for  granted,  must  be 
pronounced  untenable,  nay,  inconsistent  with  itself;  yet 
upon  it  the  prevailing  neglect  of  external  assistances  and 
the  exaltation  of  private  judgment  mainly  rest.  Discarding 
this  narrow  view  of  the  subject,  let  us  rather  accept  all 
the  means  which  are  put  within  our  reach,  as  intended  to 
be  used,  as  talents  which  must  not  be  neglected ;  and,  as  so 
considering  them,  let  us  trace  the  order  in  which  they  ad- 
dress themselves  to  the  minds  of  individuals. 

Our  parents  and  teachers  are  our  first  informants  con- 
cerning the  next  world;  and  they  elicit  and  cherish  the 
innate  sense  of  right  and  wrong  which  acts  as  a  guide  co- 
ordinately  with  them.  By  degrees  they  resign  their  place 
to  the  religious  communion,  or  church,  in  which  we  find 
ourselves,  while  the  inward  habits  of  truth  and  holiness 
which  the  moral  sense  has  begun  to  form,  react  upon  that 
inward  monitor,  enlarge  its  range,  and  make  its  dictates 
articulate,  decisive,  and  various.  Meantime  the  Scriptures 
have  been  added  as  fresh  informants,  bearing  witness  to 
the  church  and  to  the  moral  sense,  and  interpreted  by  them 
both.  Last  of  all,  where  there  is  time  and  opportunity  for 
research  into  times  past  and  present,  Christian  antiquity 
and  Christendom  as  it  at  present  exists,  become  additional 
informants,  giving  substance  and  shape  to  much  that  before 
existed  in  our  minds  but  in  outline  and  shadow. 

Such  are  the  means  by  which  God  conveys  to  Christians 
the  knowledge  of  His  will  and  providence;  but  not  all  of 


SELECTIONS  FOR  PRACTISE  465 

them  to  all  men.  To  some  He  vouchsafes  all,  to  all  some; 
but,  according  to  the  gifts  given  them,  does  He  make  it  their 
duty  to  use  them  religiously.  He  employs  these  gifts  as  His 
instruments  in  teaching,  trying,  converting,  advancing  the 
mind,  as  the"  sacraments  are  His  imperceptible  means  of 
changing  the  soul.  To  the  greater  part  of  the  world  He  has 
given  but  three  of  them — conscience,  reason,  and  national 
religion;  to  a  great  part  of  Christendom  He  gives  no  ex- 
ternal guidance  but  through  the  church ;  to  others  only  the 
Scriptures ;  to  others  both  church  and  Scriptures.  Few  are 
able  to  add  the  knowledge  of  Christian  antiquity;  the  first 
centuries  of  Christianity  enjoyed  the  light  of  Catholicity, 
an  informant  which  is  now  partially  withdrawn  from  us. 
The  least  portion  of  these  separate  means  of  knowledge  is 
sufficient  for  a  man's  living  religiously;  but  the  more  of 
them  he  has,  the  more  of  course  he  has  to  answer  for;  nor 
can  he  escape  his  responsibility,  as  most  men  attempt  in 
one  way  or  other,  by  hiding  his  talent  in  a  napkin. 

Most  men,  I  say,  try  to  dispense  with  one  or  other  of 
these  divine  informants  and  for  this  reason:  because  it  is 
difficult  to  combine  them.  The  lights  they  furnish,  coming 
from  various  quarters,  cast  separate  shadows  and  partially 
intercept  each  other;  and  it  is  pleasanter  to  walk  without 
doubt  and  without  shade,  than  to  have  to  choose  what  is 
best  and  safest.  The  Romanist  would  simplify  matters  by 
removing  reason,  Scripture,  and  antiquity,  and  depending 
mainly  upon  church  authority;  the  Calvinist  relies  on 
reason,  Scripture,  and  criticism,  to  the  disparagement  of 
the  moral  sense,  the  church,  tradition,  and  antiquity;  the 
Latitudinarian  relies  on  reason,  with  Scripture  in  subor- 
dination ;  the  mystic  on  the  feelings  and  affections,  or  what 
is  commonly  called  the  heart;  the  politician  takes  the  na- 


466  HOW  TO  SPEAK  IN  PUBLIC 

tional  faith  as  sufficient  and  cares  for  little  else;  the  man 
of  the  world  acts  by  common  sense,  which  is  the  oracle  of 
the  careless ;  the  popular  religionist  considers  the  authorized 
version  of  Scripture  to  be  all  in  all. 

But  the  true  Catholic  Christian  is  he  who  takes  what  God 
has  given  him,  be  it  greater  or  less,  despises  not  the  lesser 
because  he  has  received  the  greater,  yet  puts  it  not  before 
the  greater,  but  uses  all  duly  and  to  God's  glory. 

I  just  now  said  that  it  was  difficult  to  combine  these 
several  means  of  gaining  divine  truth,  and  that  their  respec- 
tive informations  do  not  altogether  agree.  I  mean  that  at 
first  sight  they  do  not  agree,  or  in  particular  cases;  for 
abstractedly,  of  course,  what  comes  from  God  must  be  one 
and  the  same  in  whatever  way  it  comes :  if  it  seems  to  differ 
from  itself,  this  arises  from  our  weakness.  Even  our  senses 
seem  at  first  to  contradict  each  other,  and  an  infant  may 
have  difficulty  in  knowing  how  to  avail  himself  of  them, 
yet  in  time  he  learns  to  do  so,  and  unconsciously  makes 
allowance  for  their  apparent  discordance;  and  it  would  be 
utter  folly  on  account  of  their  differences,  whatever  they 
are,  to  discard  the  use  of  them.  In  like  manner,  conscience 
and  reason  sometimes  seem  at  variance,  and  then  we  either 
call  what  appears  to  be  reason  sophistry,  or  what  appears 
to  be  conscience  weakness  or  superstition.  Or,  the  moral 
sense  and  Scripture  seem  to  speak  a  distinct  language,  as 
in  their  respective  judgments  concerning  David;  or  Script- 
ure and  antiquity,  as  regards  Christ's  command  to  us  to 
wash  each  other's  feet;  or  Scripture  and  reason,  as  regards 
miracles  or  the  doctrines  of  the  Trinity  and  Incarnation; 
or  antiquity  and  the  existing  church,  as  regards  immersion 
in  baptism;  or  the  national  religion  and  antiquity,  as  re- 
gards the  church's  power  of  jurisdiction;  or  antiquity  and 


SELECTIONS  FOR  PRACTISE  467 

the  law  of  nature,  as  regards  the  usage  of  celibacy;  or  an- 
tiquity and  scholarship,  as  at  times  perhaps  in  the  inter- 
pretation of  Scripture. 

This  being  the  state  of  the  case,  I  make  the  following  re- 
marks, which,  being  for  the  sake  of  illustration,  are  to  be 
taken  but  as  general  ones,  without  dwelling  on  extreme 
cases  or  exceptions : 

That  Scripture,  antiquity,  and  Catholicity  can  not  really 
contradict  one  another. 

That  when  the  moral  sense  or  reason  seems  to  be  on  one 
side,  and  Scripture  on  the  other,  we  must  follow  Scripture, 
except  Scripture  anywhere  contained  contradictions  in 
terms,  or  prescribed  undeniable  crimes,  which  it  never  does. 

That  when  the  sense  of  Scripture,  as  interpreted  by 
reason,  is  contrary  to  the  sense  given  to  it  by  Catholic  an- 
tiquity, we  ought  to  side  with  the  latter. 

That  when  antiquity  runs  counter  to  the  present  church 
in  important  matters,  we  must  follow  antiquity;  when  in 
unimportant  matters,  we  must  follow  the  present  church. 

That  when  the  present  church  speaks  contrary  to  our 
private  notions,  and  antiquity  is  silent,  or  its  decisions  un- 
known to  us,  it  is  pious  to  sacrifice  our  own  opinion  to  that 
of  the  church. 

That  if,  in  spite  of  our  efforts  to  agree  with  the  church, 
we  still  differ  from  it,  antiquity  being  silent,  we  must  avoid 
causing  any  disturbance,  recollecting  that  the  church,  and 
not  individuals,  "has  authority  in  controversies  of  faith." 

I  am  not  now  concerned  to  prove  all  this,  but  am  illus- 
trating the  theory  of  private  judgment,  as  I  conceive  the 
English  church  maintains  it.  And  now  let  us  consider  it 
in  practise. 

2.    It  is  popularly  conceived  that  to  maintain  the  right 


468  HOW  TO  SPEAK  IN  PUBLIC 

of  private  judgment  is  to  hold  that  no  one  has  an  enlight- 
ened faith  who  has  not,  as  a  point  of  duty,  discussed  the 
grounds  of  it  and  made  up  his  mind  for  himself.  But  to 
put  forward  such  doctrine  as  this  rightly  pertains  to  infidels 
and  skeptics  only ;  and  if  great  names  may  be  quoted  in  its 
favor,  and  it  is  often  assumed  to  be  the  true  Protestant 
doctrine,  this  is  surely  because  its  advocates  do  not  weigh 
the  force  of  their  own  words.  Every  one  must  begin  re- 
ligion by  faith,  not  by  reasoning ;  he  must  take  for  granted 
what  he  is  taught  and  what  he  can  not  prove ;  and  it  is  bet- 
ter for  himself  that  he  should  do  so,  even  if  the  teaching  he 
receives  contains  a  mixture  of  error.  If  he  would  possess 
a  reverent  mind,  he  must  begin  by  obeying;  if  he  would 
cherish  a  generous  and  devoted  spirit,  he  must  begin  by 
venturing  something  on  uncertain  information ;  if  he  would 
deserve  the  praise  of  modesty  and  humility,  he  must  repress 
his  busy  intellect,  and  forbear  to  scrutinize.  This  is  a  suf- 
ficient explanation,  were  there  no  other,  for  the  subscrip- 
tion to  the  Thirty-nine  Articles,  which  is  in  this  place  ex- 
acted of  those  who  come  hither  for  education.  Were  there 
any  serious  objections  lying  against  those  articles,  the  case 
would  be  different;  were  there  immorality  or  infidelity  in- 
culcated in  them,  or  even  imputed  to  them,  we  should  have 
a  warrant  for  drawing  back;  but  even  those  who  do  not 
agree  with  them  will  not  say  this  of  them.  Putting  aside 
then  the  consideration  that  they  contain  in  them  chief  por- 
tions of  the  ancient  creeds,  and  are  the  form  in  which  so 
many  pious  men  in  times  past  have  expressed  their  own 
faith,  even  the  circumstance  of  their  constituting  the  re- 
ligion under  which  we  are  born  is  a  reason  for  our  implicitly 
submitting  ourselves  to  them  in  the  first  instance.  As  the 
mind  expands,  whether  by  education  or  years,  a  number  of 


SELECTIONS  FOR  PRACTISE  469 

additional  informants  will  meet  it,  and  it  will  naturally,  or 
rather  it  ought,  according  to  its  opportunities,  to  exercise 
itself  upon  all  of  these,  by  way  of  finding  out  God's  perfect 
truth.  The  Christian  will  study  Scripture  and  antiquity  as 
well  as  the  doctrine  of  his  own  church,  and  may  perhaps,  in 
some  points  of  detail,  differ  from  it ;  but,  even  if  eventually 
he  differs,  he  will  not  therefore  put  himself  forward,  wran- 
gle, protest,  or  separate  from  the  church.  Further,  he  may 
go  on  to  examine  the  basis  of  the  authority  of  Scripture 
or  of  the  church;  and  if  so,  he  will  do  it,  not,  as  is  some- 
times irreverently  said,  "impartially"  and  "candidly" — 
which  means  skeptically  and  arrogantly,  as  if  he  were  the 
center  of  the  universe,  and  all  things  might  be  summoned 
before  him  and  put  to  task  at  his  pleasure — but  with  a 
generous  confidence  in  what  he  has  been  taught;  nay,  not 
recognizing,  as  will  often  happen,  the  process  of  inquiry 
which  is  going  on  within  him.  Many  a  man  supposes  that 
his  investigation  ought  to  be  attended  with  a  consciousness 
of  his  making  it;  as  if  it  were  scarcely  pleasing  to  God 
unless  he  all  along  reflects  upon  it,  tells  the  world  of  it, 
boasts  of  it  as  a  right,  and  sanctifies  it  as  a  principle.  He 
says  to  himself  and  others,  "I  am  examining,  I  am  scruti- 
nizing, I  am  judging,  I  am  free  to  choose  or  reject,  I  am 
exercising  the  right  of  private  judgment. ' '  What  a  strange 
satisfaction !  Does  it  increase  the  worth  of  our  affections 
to  reflect  upon  them  as  we  feel  them?  Would  our  mourn- 
ing for  a  friend  become  more  valuable  by  our  saying,  "I 
am  weeping;  I  am  overcome  and  agonized  for  the  second 
or  third  time;  I  am  resolved  to  weep?"  What  a  strange 
infatuation,  to  boast  of  our  having  to  make  up  our  minds ! 
What!  is  it  a  great  thing  to  be  without  an  opinion?  is  it 
a  satisfaction  to  have  the  truth  to  find?  Who  would  boast 


470  HOW  TO  SPEAK  IN  PUBLIC 

that  he  was  without  worldly  means  and  had  to  get  them 
as  he  could?  Is  heavenly  treasure  less  precious  than 
earthly?  Is  it  anything  inspiring  or  consolatory  to  con- 
sider, as  such  persons  do,  that  Almighty  God  has  left  them 
entirely  to  their  own  efforts,  has  failed  to  anticipate  their 
wants,  has  let  them  lose  in  ignorance  at  least  a  considerable 
part  of  their  short  life  and  their  tenderest  and  most  mal- 
leable years  ?  Is  it  a  hardship  or  a  yoke,  on  the  contrary,  to 
be  told  that  what  is,  in  the  order  of  Providence,  put  before 
them  to  believe,  whether  absolutely  true  or  not,  is  in  such 
sense  from  Him;  that  it  will  improve  their  hearts  to  obey 
it,  and  convey  to  them  many  truths  which  they  otherwise 
would  not  know,  and  prepare  them  perchance  for  the  com- 
munication of  higher  and  clearer  views?  Yet  such  is  a 
commonly  received  doctrine  of  this  day;  against  which,  I 
would  plainly  maintain,  not  the  Roman  doctrine  of  infal- 
libility— which  even  if  true  would  be  of  application  only 
to  a  portion  of  mankind,  for  few  comparatively  hear  of 
Rome — but  generally  that  under  whatever  system  a  man 
finds  himself  he  is  bound  to  accept  it  as  if  infallible,  and  to 
act  upon  it  in  a  confiding  spirit  till  he  finds  a  better,  or 
in  course  of  time  has  cause  to  suspect  it. 

To  this  it  may  be  replied  by  the  Romanist  that,  granting 
we  succeed  in  persuading  men  in  the  first  instance  to  exer- 
cise this  unsuspicious  faith  in  what  is  set  before  them  in 
the  course  of  Providence,  yet  if  the  right  of  free  judgment 
upon  the  text  of  Scripture  is  allowed  at  last,  it  will  be  sure 
whenever  it  is  allowed,  to  carry  them  off  into  various  dis- 
cordant opinions;  that  individuals  will  fancy  they  have 
found  out  a  more  Scriptural  system  even  than  that  of  the 
church  Catholic  itself,  should  they  happen  to  have  been 
born  and  educated  in  her  pale.  But  I  am  not  willing  to 


SELECTIONS  FOR  PRACTISE  471 

grant  this  of  the  holy  Scriptures,  tho  Romanists  are 
accustomed  to  assume  it.  There  have  been  writers  of  their 
communion,  indeed,  who  have  used  the  most  disparaging 
terms  of  the  inspired  volume,  as  if  it  were  so  mere  a  letter 
that  it  might  be  molded  into  any  meaning  which  the  reader 
chose  to  put  upon  it.  Some  of  their  expressions  and  state- 
ments have  been  noticed  by  our  divines;  such  as,  that 
"the  Scriptures  are  worth  no  more  than  ^Esop's  fables 
within  the  church's  authority ";  or  that  "they  are  like  a 
nose  of  wax  which  admits  of  being  pulled  and  molded  one 
way  and  another." 

In  contradiction  to  these  expressions  it  surely  may  be 
maintained,  not  only  that  the  Scriptures  have  but  one 
direct  and  unchangeable  sense,  but  that  it  is  such  as  in  all 
greater  matters  to  make  a  forcible  appeal  to  the  mind,  when 
fairly  put  before  it,  and  to  impress  it  with  a  conviction  of 
its  being  the  true  one.  Little  of  systematic  knowledge  as 
Scripture  may  impart  to  ordinary  readers,  still  what  it  does 
convey  may  surely  tend  in  one  direction  and  not  in  another. 
What  it  imparts  may  look  toward  the  system  of  the  church 
and  of  antiquity,  not  oppose  it.  Whether  it  does  so  or  not, 
is  a  question  of  fact  which  must  be  determined  as  facts  are 
determined;  but  here  let  us  dwell  for  a  moment  on  the 
mere  idea  which  I  have  suggested.  There  is  no  reason  why 
the  Romanist  should  startle  at  the  notion.  Why  is  it  more 
incongruous  to  suppose  that  our  minds  are  so  constituted 
as  to  be  sure  to  a  certain  point  of  the  true  meaning  of 
words  than  of  the  correctness  of  an  argument  ?  Yet  Roman- 
ists do  argue.  If  it  is  possible  to  be  sure  of  the  soundness 
of  an  argument,  there  is  perchance  no  antecedent  reason 
to  hinder  our  being  as  sure  that  a  text  has  a  certain  sense. 
Men,  it  is  granted,  continually  misinterpret  Scripture;  so 


472  HOW  TO  SPEAK  IN  PUBLIC 

are  they  as  continually  using  bad  arguments;  and,  as  the 
latter  circumstance  does  not  destroy  the  mind's  innate 
power  of  reasoning,  so  neither  does  the  former  show  it  is 
destitute  of  its  innate  power  of  interpreting.  Nay,  the 
Komanists  themselves  continually  argue  with  individuals 
from  Scripture,  even  in  proof  of  this  very  doctrine  of  the 
church's  infallibility,  which  wTould  be  out  of  place  unless 
the  passages  appealed  to  bore  their  own  meaning  with  them. 
What  I  wrould  urge  is  this :  The  Romanists  of  course  confess 
that  the  real  sense  of  Scripture  is  not  adverse  to  any  doc- 
trine taught  by  the  church ;  all  I  would  maintain  in  addi- 
tion is,  that  it  is  also  the  natural  sense,  as  separable  from 
false  interpretations  by  the  sound- judging,  as  a  good  argu- 
ment is  from  a  bad  one.  And  as  so  believing,  we  think  no 
harm  can  come  from  putting  the  Scripture  into  the  hands 
of  the  laity,  allowing  them,  if  they  will,  to  verify  by  it,  as 
far  as  it  extends,  the  doctrines  they  have  been  already 
taught. 

They  will  answer  that  all  this  is  negatived  by  experience, 
even  tho  it  be  abstractedly  possible ;  since,  in  fact,  the  gen- 
eral reading  of  the  Bible  has  brought  into  our  country  and 
church  all  kinds  of  heresies  and  extravagances.  Certainly 
it  has;  but  it  has  not  been  introduced  under  those  limita- 
tions and  provisions,  which  I  have  mentioned  as  necessary 
attendants  on  it,  according  to  the  scheme  designed  by  Prov- 
idence. If  Scripture  reading  has  been  the  cause  of  schism, 
this  has  been  because  individuals  have  given  themselves  to 
it  to  the  disparagement  of  God's  other  gifts;  because  they 
have  refused  to  throw  themselves  into  the  external  system 
which  has  been  provided  for  them;  because  they  have  at- 
tempted to  reason  before  they  acted,  and  to  prove  before 


SELECTIONS  FOR  PRACTISE  473 

they  would  be  taught.  If  it  has  been  the  cause  of  schism 
in  our  country,  it  is  because  the  Anglican  Church  has  never 
had  the  opportunity  of  supplying  adequately  that  assis- 
tance which  is  its  divinely  provided  complement;  because 
her  voice  has  been  feeble,  her  motions  impeded,  and  the 
means  withheld  from  her  of  impressing  upon  the  popula- 
tion her  own  doctrine ;  because  the  Reformation  was  set  up 
in  disunion,  and  theories  more  Protestant  than  hers  have, 
from  the  first,  spoken  with  her,  and  blended  with,  and  some- 
times drowned  her  voice.  If  Scripture  reading  has,  in 
England,  been  the  cause  of  schism,  it  is  because  we  are  de- 
prived of  the  power  of  excommunicating,  which,  in  the 
revealed  scheme,  is  the  formal  antagonist  and  curb  of  pri- 
vate judgment.  But  take  a  church,  nurtured  and  trained 
on  this  model,  claiming  the  obedience  of  its  members  in 
the  first  instance,  tho  laying  itself  open  afterward  to  their 
judgment,  according  to  their  respective  capabilities  for 
judging,  claiming  that  they  should  make  a  generous  and 
unsuspicious  trial  of  it  before  they  objected  to  it,  and  able 
to  appeal  confidently  for  its  doctrines  to  the  writings  of 
antiquity — a  church  which  taught  the  truth  boldly  and  in 
system,  and  which  separated  from  itself  or  silenced  those 
which  opposed  it,  and  I  believe  individual  members  would 
be  very  little  perplexed,  and  if  men  were  still  found  to 
resist  its  doctrine  they  would  not  be,  as  now,  misguided 
persons,  with  some  good  feelings  and  right  views,  but  such 
as  one  should  be  glad  to  be  rid  of.  One  chief  cause  of  sects 
among  us  is,  that  the  church's  voice  is  not  heard  clearly  and 
forcibly;  she  does  not  exercise  her  own  right  of  interpret- 
ing Scripture ;  she  does  not  arbitrate,  decide,  condemn ;  she 
does  not  answer  the  call  which  human  nature  makes  upon 
her.  That  all  her  members  would  in  that  case  perfectly 


474  HOW  TO  SPEAK  IN  PUBLIC 

agree  with  each  other,  or  with  herself,  I  am  far  from  sup- 
posing; but  they  would  differ  chiefly  in  such  matters  as 
would  not  forfeit  their  membership  nor  lead  them  to  pro- 
test against  the  received  doctrine.  If,  even  as  it  is,  the 
great  body  of  dissenters  from  the  church  during  the  last 
centuries  remained  more  or  less  constant  to  the  creeds,  ex- 
cept in  the  article  which  was  compromised  in  their  dissent, 
surely  much  more  fully  and  firmly  would  her  members 
then  abide  in  the  fundamentals  of  faith,  tho  Scripture  was 
ever  so  freely  put  into  their  hands.  We  see  it  so  at  this  day. 
For  on  which  side  is  'the  most  lack  at  this  moment — in  the 
laity  in  believing,  or  the  church  in  teaching?  Are  not  the 
laity  everywhere  willing  to  treat  their  pastors  with  becom- 
ing respect ;  nay,  so  follow  their  guidance  as  to  take  up  their 
particular  views,  according  as  they  may  be  of  a  Catholic 
or  private  character  in  this  or  that  place?  Is  there  any 
doubt  at  all  that  the  laity  would  think  alike  if  the  clergy 
did?  And  is  there  any  doubt  that  the  clergy  would  think 
alike,  as  far  as  the  formal  expression  of  their  faith  went, 
if  they  had  their  views  cleared  by  a  theological  education 
and  molded  by  a  knowledge  of  antiquity?  We  have  no 
need  to  grudge  our  people  the  religious  use  of  private  judg- 
ment ;  we  need  not  distrust  their  affection ;  we  have  but  to 
blame  our  own  waverings  and  differences. 

The  free  reading  of  Scripture,  I  say,  when  the  other 
parts  of  the  divine  system  are  duly  fulfilled,  would  lead 
at  most  to  diversities  of  opinion  only  in  the  adjuncts  and 
details  of  faith,  not  in  fundamentals.  Men  differ  from 
each  other  at  present,  first,  from  the  influence  of  the  false 
theories  of  private  judgment  which  are  among  us  and  which 
mislead  them;  next,  from  the  want  of  external  guidance. 
They  are  enjoined,  as  a  matter  of  duty,  to  examine  and 


SELECTIONS  FOR  PRACTISE  475 

decide  for  themselves,  and  the  church  but  faintly  protests 
against  this  proceeding  or  supersedes  the  need  of  it.  Truth 
has  a  force  which  error  cannot  counterfeit ;  and  the  church, 
speaking  out  that  truth  as  committed  to  her,  would  cause 
a  corresponding  vibration  in  Holy  Scripture  such  as  no 
other  notes,  however  loudly  sounded,  can  draw  from  it.  If, 
after  all,  persons  arose,  as  they  would  arise,  disputing 
against  the  fundamentals,  or  separating  on  minor  points, 
let  them  go  their  way;  "they  went  out  from  us,  because 
they  were  not  of  us."  They  would  commonly  be  "men 
of  corrupt  minds,  reprobate  concerning  the  faith";  I  do 
not  say  there  never  could  be  any  other,  but  for  such  ex- 
traordinary cases  no  system  can  provide.  If  there  were 
better  men  who,  tho  educated  in  the  truth,  ultimately  op- 
posed it  openly,  they  as  well  as  others  would  be  put  out  of 
the  church  for  their  error's  sake  and  for  their  contumacy; 
and  God,  who  alone  sees  the  hearts  of  men  and  how  mys- 
teriously good  and  evil  are  mingled  together  in  this  world, 
would  provide  in  His  own  inscrutable  way  for  anomalies 
which  His  revealed  system  did  not  meet. 

I  consider,  then,  on  the  whole  that  however  difficult  it 
may  be  in  theory  to  determine  when  we  must  go  by  our  own 
view  of  Scripture,  when  by  the  decision  of  the  church,  yet 
in  practise  there  would  be  little  or  no  difficulty  at  all. 
Without  claiming  infallibility,  the  church  may  claim  the 
confidence  and  obedience  of  her  members;  Scripture  may 
be  read  without  tending  to  schism;  minor  differences  al- 
lowed without  disagreement  in  fundamentals;  and  the 
proud  and  self-willed  disputant  discarded  without  the  per- 
plexed inquirer  suffering.  If  there  is  schism  among  us,  it 
is  not  that  Scripture  speaks  variously,  but  that  the  church 


476  HOW  TO  SPEAK  IN  PUBLIC 

of  the  day  speaks  not  at  all;  not  that  private  judgment 
is  rebellious,  but  that  the  church's  judgment  is  withheld. 

I  do  really  believe  that,  with  more  of  primitive  simplicity 
and  of  rational  freedom,  and  far  more  of  Gospel  truth  than 
in  Romanism,  there  would  be  found  in  the  rule  of  private 
judgment,  as  I  have  described  it,  as  much  certainty  as  the 
doctrine  of  infallibility  can  give ;  for  ample  provision  would 
be  made  both  for  the  comfort  of  the  individual  and  for  the 
peace  and  unity  of  the  body,  which  are  the  two  objects  for 
which  Romanism  professes  to  consult  The  claim  of  infal- 
libility is  but  an  expedient  for  impressing  strongly  upon  the 
mind  the  necessity  of  hearing  and  of  obeying  the  church. 
When  scrutinized  carefully  it  will  be  found  to  contribute 
nothing  whatever  toward  satisfying  the  reason,  as  was  ob- 
served in  another  connection ;  since  it  is  as  difficult  to  prove 
and  bring  home  to  the  mind  that  the  church  is  infallible,  as 
that  the  doctrines  it  teaches  are  true.  Nothing,  then,  is 
gained  in  the  way  of  conviction,  only  of  impression — and, 
again,  of  expedition,  it  being  less  trouble  to  accept  one  doc- 
trine on  which  all  the  others  are  to  depend  than  a  number. 
Now,  this  impressiveness  and  practical  perspicuity  in  teach- 
ing, as  far  as  these  objects  are  lawful  and  salutary,  may,  I 
say,  be  gained  without  this  claim;  they  may  be  gained  in 
God's  way,  without  unwarranted  additions  to  the  means  of 
influence  which  He  has  ordained,  without  a  tenet,  fictitious 
in  itself  and,  as  falsehood  ever  will  be,  deplorable  in  many 
ways  in  its  results. 


SELECTIONS  FOR  PRACTISE  477 

PART  OF  LECTURE  ON  "EMERSON" 
BY  MATTHEW  ARNOLD 

I  have  given  up  to  envious  time  as  much  of  Emerson  as 
time  can  fairly  expect  ever  to  obtain.  We  have  not  in  Em- 
erson a  great  poet,  a  great  writer,  a  great  philosophy  maker. 
His  relation  to  us  is  not  that  of  one  of  those  personages; 
yet  it  is  a  relation  of,  I  think,  even  superior  importance. 
His  relation  to  us  is  more  like  that  of  the  Roman  emperor, 
Marcus  Aurelius.  Marcus  Aurelius  is  not  a  great  writer, 
a  great  philosophy  maker;  he  is  the  friend  and  aider  of 
those  who  would  live  in  the  spirit.  Emerson  is  the  same. 
He  is  the  friend  and  aider  of  those  who  would  live  in  the 
spirit.  All  the  points  in  thinking  which  are  necessary  for 
this  purpose  he  takes;  but  he  does  not  combine  them  into 
a  system,  or  present  them  as  a  regular  philosophy.  Com- 
bined in  a  system  by  a  man  with  the  requisite  talent  for 
this  kind  of  thing,  they  would  be  less  useful  than  as  Em- 
erson gives  them  to  us;  and  the  man  with  the  talent  so  to 
systematize  them  would  be  less  impressive  than  Emerson. 
They  do  very  well  as  they  now  stand — like  "boulders/* 
as  he  says — in  "paragraphs  incompressible,  each  sentence 
an  infinitely  repellent  particle."  In  such  sentences  his 
main  points  recur  again  and  again,  and  become  fixed  in 
the  memory. 

We  all  know  them.  First  and  foremost,  character.  Char- 
acter is  everything.  "That  which  all  things  tend  to  educe 
—which  freedom,  cultivation,  intercourse,  revolutions,  go 
to  form  and  deliver — is  character."  Character  and  self- 
reliance.  "  Trust  thyself!  every  heart  vibrates  to  that  iron 


478  HOW  TO  SPEAK  IN  PUBLIC 

string."  And  yet  we  have  our  being  in  a  not  ourselves. 
"There  is  a  power  above  and  behind  us,  and  we  are  the 
channels  of  its  communications."  But  our  lives  must  be 
pitched  higher.  "Life  must  be  lived  on  a  higher  plane;  we 
must  go  up  to  a  higher  platform,  to  which  we  are  always 
invited  to  ascend;  there  the  whole  scene  changes."  The 
good  we  need  is  forever  close  to  us,  tho  we  attain  it  not. 
"On  the  brink  of  the  waters  of  life  and  truth,  we  are  mis- 
erably djang."  This  good  is  close  to  us,  moreover,  in  our 
daily  life,  and  in  the  familiar,  homely  places.  "The  unre- 
mitting retention  of  simple  and  high  sentiments  in  obscure 
duties — that  is  the  maxim  for  us.  Let  us  be  poised  and 
wise,  and  our  own  to-day.  Let  us  treat  the  men  and  women 
well — treat  them  as  if  they  were  real;  perhaps  they  are. 
Men  live  in  their  fancy,  like  drunkards  whose  hands  are 
too  soft  and  tremulous  for  successful  labor.  I  settle  my- 
self ever  firmer  in  the  creed,  that  we  should  not  postpone 
and  refer  and  wish,  but  do  broad  justice  where  we  are,  by 
whomsoever  we  deal  with;  accepting  our  actual  compan- 
ions and  circumstances,  however  humble  or  odious,  as  the 
mystic  officials  to  whom  the  universe  has  delegated  its  whole 
pleasure  for  us.  Massachusetts,  Connecticut  River,  and 
Boston  Bay  you  think  paltry  places,  and  the  ear  loves: 
names  of  foreign  and  classic  topography.  But  here  we 
are;  and  if  we  will  tarry  a  little  we  may  come  to  learn 
that  here  is  best.  See  to  it  only  that  thyself  is  here. ' '  Fur- 
thermore, the  good  is  close  to  us  all.  "I  resist  the  skepti- 
cism of  our  education  and  of  our  educated  men.  I  do  not 
believe  that  the  differences  of  opinion  and  character  in  men 
are  organic.  I  do  not  recognize,  besides  the  class  of  the 
good  and  the  wise,  a  permanent  class  of  skeptics,  or  a  class 
of  conservatives,  or  of  malignants,  or  of  materialists.  I  do 


SELECTIONS  FOR  PRACTISE  479 

not  believe  in  the  classes.  Every  man  has  a  call  of  the 
power  to  do  something  unique."  Exclusiveness  is  deadly. 
"The  exclusive  in  social  life  does  not  see  that  he  excludes 
himself  from  enjoyment  in  the  attempt  to  appropriate  it. 
The  exclusionist  in  religion  does  not  see  that  he  shuts  the 
door  of  heaven  on  himself  in  striving  to  shut  out  others. 
Treat  men  as  pawns  and  ninepins,  and  you  shall  suffer  as 
well  as  they.  If  you  leave  out  their  heart  you  shall  lose 
your  own.  The  selfish  man  suffers  more  from  his  selfish- 
ness than  he  from  whom  that  selfishness  withholds  some 
important  benefit."  A  sound  nature  will  be  inclined  to 
refuse  ease  and  self-indulgence.  "To  live  with  some  rigor 
of  temperance,  or  some  extreme  of  generosity,  seems  to  be 
an  asceticism  which  common  good  nature  would  appoint 
to  those  who  are  at  ease  and  in  plenty,  in  sign  that  they 
feel  a  brotherhood  with  the  great  multitude  of  suffering 
men."  Compensation,  finally,  is  the  great  law  of  life;  it 
is  everywhere,  it  is  sure,  and  there  is  no  escape  from  it. 
This  is  that  "law  alive  and  beautiful,  which  works  over 
our  heads  and  under  our  feet.  Pitiless,  it  avails  itself  of 
our  success  when  we  obey  it,  and  of  our  ruin  when  we  con- 
travene it.  We  are  all  secret  believers  in  it.  It  rewards 
action  after  their  nature.  The  reward  of  a  thing  well  done 
is  to  have  done  it.  The  thief  steals  from  himself,  the  swind- 
ler swindles  himself.  You  must  pay  at  last  your  own  debt. '  * 
This  is  tonic  indeed!  And  let  no  one  object  that  it  is 
too  general ;  that  more  practical,  positive  direction  is  what 
we  want;  that  Emerson's  optimism,  self-reliance,  and  in- 
difference to  favorable  conditions  for  our  life  and  growth 
have  in  them  something  of  danger.  "Trust  thyself"; 
"What  attracts  my  attention  shall  have  it";  "Tho  thou 
shouldst  walk  the  world  over  thou  shalt  not  be  able  to  find 


480  HOW  TO  SPEAK  IN  PUBLIC 

a  condition  inopportune  or  ignoble";  "What  we  call  vul- 
gar society  is  that  society  whose  poetry  is  not  yet  written, 
but  which  you  shall  presently  make  as  enviable  and  re- 
nowned as  any."  With  maxims  like  these,  we  surely,  it 
may  be  said,  run  some  risk  of  being  made  too  well  satisfied 
with  our  own  actual  self  and  state,  however  crude  and 
imperfect  they  may  be.  "Trust  thyself  ?"  It  may  be  said 
that  the  common  American  or  Englishman  is  more  than 
enough  disposed  already  to  trust  himself.  I  often  reply, 
when  our  sectarians  are  praised  for  following  conscience: 
Our  people  are  very  good  in  following  their  conscience; 
where  they  are  not  so  good  is  in  ascertaining  whether  their 
conscience  tells  them  right.  "What  attracts  my  attention 
shall  have  it?"  Well,  that  is  our  people's  plea  when  they 
run  after  the  Salvation  Army,  and  desire  Messrs.  Moody 
and  Sankey.  "Thou  shalt  not  be  able  to  find  a  condition 
inopportune  or  ignoble  ? ' '  But  think  of  the  turn  of  the  good 
people  of  our  race  for  producing  a  life  of  hideousness  and 
immense  ennui;  think  of  that  specimen  of  your  own  New 
England  life  which  Mr.  Howells  gives  us  in  one  of  his 
charming  stories  which  I  was  reading  lately;  think  of  the 
life  of  that  rugged  New  England  farm  in  "The  Lady  of 
the  Aroostook";  think  of  Deacon  Blood,  and  Aunt  Maria, 
and  the  straight-backed  chairs  with  black  horsehair  seats, 
and  Ezra  Perkins  with  perfect  self-reliance  depositing  his 
travelers  in  the  snow!  I  can  truly  say  that  in  the  little 
which  I  have  seen  of  the  life  of  New  England,  I  am  more 
struck  with  what  has  been  achieved  than  with  the  crude- 
ness  and  failure.  But  no  doubt  there  is  still  a  great  deal 
of  crudeness  also.  Your  own  novelists  say  there  is,  and 
I  suppose  they  say  true.  In  the  new  England,  as  in  the  old, 
our  people  have  to  learn,  I  suppose,  not  that  their  modes  of 


SELECTIONS  FOR  PRACTISE  481 

life  are  beautiful  and  excellent  already;  they  have  rather 
to  learn  that  they  must  transform  them. 

To  adopt  this  line  of  objection  to  Emerson's  deliverances 
would,  however,  be  unjust.  In  the  first  place,  Emerson's 
points  are  in  themselves  true,  if  understood  in  a  certain 
high  sense ;  they  are  true  and  fruitful.  And  the  right  work 
to  be  done,  at  the  hour  when  he  appeared,  was  to  affirm 
them  generally  and  absolutely.  Only  thus  could  he  break 
through  the  hard  and  fast  barrier  of  narrow,  fixed  ideas, 
which  he  found  confronting  him,  and  win  an  entrance  for 
new  ideas.  Had  he  attempted  developments  which  may 
now  strike  us  as  expedient,  he  would  have  excited  fierce 
antagonism,  and  probably  effected  little  or  nothing.  The 
time  might  come  for  doing  other  work  later,  but  the  work 
which  Emerson  did  was  the  right  work  to  be  done  then. 

In  the  second  place,  strong  as  was  Emerson's  optimism, 
and  unconquerable  as  was  his  belief  in  a  good  result  to 
emerge  from  all  which  he  saw  going  on  around  him,  no 
misanthropical  satirist  ever  saw  shortcomings  and  absurd- 
ities more  clearly  than  he  did,  or  exposed  them  more  cour- 
ageously. When  he  sees  "the  meanness,"  as  he  calls  it, 
"of  American  politics,"  he  congratulates  Washington  on 
being  "long  already  happily  dead";  on  being  "wrapt  in 
his  shroud  and  forever  safe."  With  how  firm  a  touch  he 
delineates  the  faults  of  your  two  great  political  parties  of 
forty  years  ago!  The  Democrats,  he  says,  "have  not  at 
heart  the  ends  which  give  to  the  name  of  democracy  what 
hope  and  virtue  are  in  it.  The  spirit  of  our  American  rad- 
icalism is  destructive  and  aimless;  it  is  not  loving;  it  has 
no  ulterior  and  divine  ends,  but  is  destructive  only  out  of 
hatred  and  selfishness.  On  the  other  side,  the  conservative 
party,  composed  of  the  most  moderate,  able,  and  cultivated 


482  HOW  TO  SPEAK  IN  PUBLIC 

part  of  the  population,  is  timid,  and  merely  defensive  of 
property.  It  vindicates  no  right,  it  aspires  to  no  real  good, 
it  brands  no  crime,  it  proposes  no  generous  policy.  From 
neither  party,  when  in  power,  has  the  world  any  benefit  to 
expect  in  science,  art,  or  humanity,  at  all  commensurate 
with  the  resources  of  the  nation."  Then  with  what  sub- 
tle tho  kindly  irony  he  follows  the  gradual  withdrawal  in 
New  England,  in  the  last  half  century,  of  tender  consciences 
from  the  social  organizations — the  bent  for  experiments 
such  as  that  of  Brook  Farm  and  the  like, — follows 
it  in  all  its  "dissidence  of  dissent  and  Protestantism 
of  the  Protestant  religion!"  He  even  loves  to  rally 
the  New  Englander  on  his  philanthropical  activity,  and  to 
find  his  beneficence  and  its  institutions  a  bore !  ' '  Your 
miscellaneous  popular  charities,  the  education  at  college  of 
fools,  the  building  of  meeting-houses  to  the  vain  end  to 
which  many  of  these  now  stand,  alms  to  sots,  and  the  thou- 
sandfold relief  societies — tho  I  confess  with  shame  that 
I  sometimes  succumb  and  give  the  dollar,  yet  it  is  a  wicked 
dollar,  which  by  and  by  I  shall  have  the  manhood  to  with- 
hold." "Our  Sunday-schools  and  churches  and  pauper 
societies  are  yokes  to  the  neck.  We  pain  ourselves  to  please 
nobody.  There  are  natural  ways  of  arriving  at  the  same 
ends  at  which  these  aim,  but  do  not  arrive."  "Nature 
does  not  like  our  benevolence  or  our  learning  much  better 
than  she  likes  our  frauds  and  wars.  When  we  come  out 
of  the  caucus,  or  the  bank,  or  the  Abolition  convention,  or 
the  temperance  meeting,  or  the  transcendental  club,  into 
the  fields  and  woods,  she  says  to  us:  'So  hot,  my  little 
sir?'  " 

Yes,  truly,  his  insight  is  admirable ;  his  truth  is  precious. 
Yet  the  secret  of  his  effect  is  not  even  in  these ;  it  is  in  his 


SELECTIONS  FOR  PRACTISE  483 

temper.  It  is  in  the  hopeful,  serene,  beautiful  temper  where- 
with these,  in  Emerson,  are  indissolubly  joined ;  in  which 
they  work,  and  have  their  being.  He  says  himself:  "We 
judge  of  a  man's  wisdom  by  his  hope,  knowing  that  the 
perception  of  the  inexhaustibleness  of  nature  is  an  immor- 
tal youth."  If  this  be  so,  how  wise  is  Emerson!  for  never 
had  man  such  a  sense  of  the  inexhaustibleness  of  nature, 
and  such  hope.  It  was  the  ground  of  his  being;  it  never 
failed  him.  Even  when  he  is  sadly  avowing  the  imperfec- 
tion of  his  literary  power  and  resources,  lamenting  his  fum- 
bling fingers  and  stammering  tongue,  he  adds:  "Yet,  as 
I  tell  you,  I  am  very  easy  in  my  mind  and  never  dream  of 
suicide.  My  whole  philosophy,  which  is  very  real,  teaches 
acquiescence  and  optimism.  Sure  I  am  that  the  right  word 
will  be  spoken,  tho  I  cut  out  my  tongue."  In  his  old  age, 
with  friends  dying  and  life  failing,  his  tone  of  cheerful, 
forward-looking  hope  is  still  the  same.  "A  multitude  of 
young  men  are  growing  up  here  of  high  promise,  and  I 
compare  gladly  the  social  poverty  of  my  youth  with  the 
power  on  which  these  draw."  His  abiding  word  for  us, 
the  word  by  which  being  dead  he  yet  speaks  to  us,  is  this: 
"That  which  befits  us,  embosomed  in  beauty  and  wonder 
as  we  are,  is  cheerfulness  and  courage,  and  the  endeavor 
to  realize  our  aspirations.  Shall  not  the  heart,  which  has 
received  so  much,  trust  the  power  by  which  it  lives  ? '  ' 

One  can  scarcely  overrate  the  importance  of  thus  hold- 
ing fast  to  happiness  and  hope.  It  gives  to  Emerson's 
work  an  invaluable  virtue.  As  Wordsworth  's~  poetry  is, 
in  my  judgment,  the  most  important  work  done  in  verse, 
in  our  language,  during  the  present  century,  so  Emerson's 
"Essays"  are,  I  think,  the  most  important  work  done  in 
prose.  His  work  is  more  important  than  Carlyle's.  Let 


484  HOW  TO  SPEAK  IN  PUBLIC 

us  be  just  to  Carlyle,  provoking  tho  he  often  is.  Not  only 
has  he  that  genius  of  his  which  makes  Emerson  say  truly 
of  his  letters,  that  "they  savor  always  of  eternity."  More 
than  this  may  be  said  of  him.  The  scope  and  upshot  of 
his  teaching  are  true;  "his  guiding  genius,"  to  quote  Em- 
erson again,  is  really  "his  moral  sense,  his  perception  of 
the  sole  importance  of  truth  and  justice."  But  consider 
Carlyle 's  temper,  as  we  have  been  considering  Emerson 's ! 
Take  his  own  account  of  it !  "  Perhaps  London  is  the  proper 
place  for  me  after  all,  seeing  all  places  are  improper:  who 
knows?  Meanwhile,  I  lead  a  most  dyspeptic,  solitary,  self- 
shrouded  life;  consuming,  if  possible  in  silence,  my  con- 
siderable daily  allotment  of  pain;  glad  when  any  strength 
is  left  in  me  for  writing,  which  is  the  only  use  I  can  see 
in  myself — too  rare  a  case  of  late.  The  ground  of  my  ex- 
istence is  black  as  death — too  black,  when  all  void,  too ;  but 
at  times  there  paint  themselves  on  it  pictures  of  gold,  and 
rainbow,  and  lightning — all  the  brighter  for  the  black 
ground,  I  suppose.  Withal,  I  am  very  much  of  a  fool."- 
No,  not  a  fool,  but  turbid  and  morbid,  wilful  and  perverse. 
"We  judge  of  a  man's  wisdom  by  his  hope." 

Carlyle 's  perverse  attitude  toward  happiness  cuts  him  off 
from-  hope.  He  fiercely  attacks  the  desire  for  happiness ; 
his  grand  point  in  "Sartor,"  his  secret  in  which  the  soul 
may  find  rest,  is  that  one  shall  cease  to  desire  happiness; 
that  one  should  learn  to  say  to  one's  self:  "What  if  thou 
wert  born  and  predestined  not  to  be  happy,  but  to  be  un- 
happy ! ' '  He  is  wrong ;  Saint  Augustine  is  the  better  phil- 
osopher, who  says:  "Act  we  must  in  pursuance  of  what 
gives  us  most  delight,"  Epictetus  and  Augustine  can  be 
severe  moralists  enough;  but  both  of  them  know  and 
frankly  say  that  the  desire  for  happiness  is  the  root  and 


SELECTIONS  FOR  PRACTISE  485 

ground  of  man's  being.  Tell  him  and  show  him  that  he 
places  his  happiness  wrong,  that  he  seeks  for  delight  where 
delight  will  never  be  really  found;  then  you  illumine  and 
further  him.  But  you  only  confuse  him  by  telling  him  to 
cease  to  desire  happiness:  and  you  will  not  tell  him  this 
unless  you  are  already  confused  yourself. 

Carlyle  preached  the  dignity  of  labor,  the  necessity  of 
righteousness,  the  love  of  veracity,  the  -hatred  of  shams.  He 
is  said  by  many  people  to  be  a  great  teacher,  a  great  helper 
for  us,  because  he  does  so.  But  what  is  the  due  and  eternal 
result  of  labor,  righteousness,  veracity?  Happiness.  And 
how  are  we  drawn  to  them  by  one  who,  instead  of  making 
us  feel  that  with  them  is  happiness,  tells  us  that  perhaps 
we  were  predestined  not  to  be  happy  but  to  be  unhappy  ? 

You  will  find,  in  especial,  many  earnest  preachers  of  our 
popular  religion  to  be  fervent  in  their  praise  and  admira- 
tion of  Carlyle.  His  insistence  on  labor,  righteousness,  and 
veracity,  pleases  them;  his  contempt  for  happiness  pleases 
them,  too.  I  read  the  other  day  a  tract  against  smoking, 
altho  I  do  not  happen  to  be  a  smoker  myself.  ' '  Smoking, ' ' 
said  the  tract, ' '  is  liked  because  it  gives  agreeable  sensations. 
Now  it  is  a  positive  objection  to  a  thing  that  it  gives  agree- 
able sensations.  An  earnest  man  will  expressly  avoid  what 
gives  agreeable  sensations."  Shortly  afterward  I  was  in- 
specting a  school,  and  I  found  the  children  reading  a  piece 
of  poetry  on  the  common  theme,  that  we  areliere  to-day  and 
gone  to-morrow.  I  shall  soon  be  gone,  the  speaker  in  this 
poem  was  made  to  say, — 

"And  I  shall  be  glad  to  go, 
For  the  world  at  best  is  a  dreary  place, 
And  my  life  is  getting  low." 


486  HOW  TO  SPEAK  IN  PUBLIC 

How  usual  a  language  of  popular  religion  that  is,  on  our 
side  of  the  Atlantic  at  any  rate!  But  then  our  popular 
religion,  in  disparaging  happiness  here  below,  knows  very 
well  what  it  is  after.  It  has  its  eye  on  a  happiness  in  a 
future  life  above  the  clouds,  in  the  New  Jerusalem,  to  be 
won  by  disliking  and  rejecting  happiness  here  on  earth. 
And  so  long  as  this  ideal  stands  fast,  it  is  very  well.  But 
for  very  many  it  now  stands  fast  no  longer ;  for  Carlyle,  at 
any  rate,  it  had  failed  and  vanished.  Happiness  in  labor, 
righteousness,  and  veracity,  in  the  life  of  the  spirit, — 
here  was  a  gospel  still  for  Carlyle  to  preach,  and  to  help 
others  by  preaching.  But  he  baffled  them  and  himself  by 
preferring  the  paradox  that  we  are  not  born  for  happiness 
at  all. 

Happiness  in  labor,  righteousness,  and  veracity;  in  all 
the  life  of  the  spirit;  happiness  and  eternal  hope — that  was 
Emerson's  gospel.  I  hear  it  said  that  Emerson  was  too 
sanguine;  that  the  actual  generation  in  America  is  not 
turning  out  so  well  as  he  expected.  Very  likely  he  was 
too  sanguine  as  to  the  near  future;  in  this  country  it  is 
difficult  not  to  be  too  sanguine.  Very  possibly  the  present 
generation  may  prove  unworthy  of  his  high  hopes;  even 
several  generations  succeeding  this  may  prove  unworthy 
of  them.  But  by  his  conviction  that  in  the  life  of  the 
spirit  is  happiness,  and  by  his  hope  that  this  life  of  the 
spirit  will  come  more  and. more  to  be  sanely  understood, 
and  to  prevail,  and  to  work  for  happiness, — by  this  con- 
viction and  hope  Emerson  was  great,  and  he  will  surely 
prove  in  the  end  to  have  been  right  in  them.  In  this  coun- 
try it  is  difficult,  as  I  said,  not  to  be  sanguine.  Very  many  of 
your  writers  are  over-sanguine,  and  on  the  wrong  grounds. 
But  you  have  two  men  who  in  what  they  have  written  show 


SELECTIONS  FOR  PRACTISE  487 

their  sanguineness  in  a  line  where  courage  and  hope  are  just ; 
where  they  are  also  infinitely  important,  but  where  they 
are  not  easy.  The  two  men  are  Franklin  and  Emerson. 
These  two  are,  I  think,  the  most  distinctively  and  honor- 
ably American  of  your  writers;  they  are  the  most  original 
and  the  most  valuable.  Wise  men  everywhere  know  that 
we  must  keep  up  our  courage  and  hope;  they  know  that 
hope  is,  as  Wordsworth  well  says, — 

"The  paramount  duty  which  Heaven  lays, 
For  its  own  honor,  on  man's  suffering  heart." 

But  the  very  word ' '  duty ' '  points  to  an  effort  and  a  struggle 
to  maintain  our  hope  unbroken.  Franklin  and  Emerson 
maintained  theirs  with  a  convincing  ease,  an  inspiring  joy. 
Franklin 's  confidence  in  the  happiness  with  which  industry, 
honesty,  and  economy  will  crown  the  life  of  this  work-day 
world,  is  such  that  he  runs  over  with  felicity.  With  a  like 
felicity  does  Emerson  run  over,  when  he  contemplates  the 
happiness  eternally  attached  to  the  true  life  in  the  spirit. 
You  can  not  prize  him  too  much,  nor  heed  him  too  diligently. 
He  has  lessons  for  both  the  branches  of  our  race.  I  figure 
him  to  my  mind  as  visible  upon  earth  still ;  as  still  standing 
here  by  Boston  Bay,  or  at  his  own  Concord,  in  his  habit 
as  he  lived,  but  of  heightened  stature  and  shining  feature, 
with  one  hand  stretched  out  toward  the  east,  to  our  laden 
and  laboring  England;  the  other  toward  the  ever-growing 
west,  to  his  own  dearly-loved  America — "great,  intelligent, 
sensual,  avaricious  America. "  To  us  he  shows  for  guidance 
his  lucid  freedom,  his  cheerfulness  and  hope;  to  you  his 
dignity,  delicacy,  serenity,  elevation. 


488  HOW  TO  SPEAK  IN  PUBLIC 

THE  "CROSS  OF  GOLD"  SPEECH 

BY  WILLIAM  JENNINGS  BRYAN 

MR.  CHAIRMAN  AND  GENTLEMEN  OF  THE  CONVENTION  : — I 
would  be  presumptuous,  indeed,  to  present  myself  against 
the  distinguished  gentlemen  to  whom  you  have  listened  if 
this  were  a  mere  measuring  of  abilities;  but  this  is  not  a 
contest  between  persons.  The  humblest  citizen  in  all  the 
land,  when  clad  in  the  armor  of  a  righteous  cause,  is 
stronger  than  all  the  hosts  of  error.  I  come  to  speak  to 
you  in  defense  of  a  cause  as  holy  as  the  cause  of  liberty — 
the  cause  of  humanity. 

When  this  debate  is  concluded,  a  motion  will  be  made 
to  lay  upon  the  table  the  resolution  offered  in  commenda- 
tion of  the  Administration,  and  also  the  resolution  offered 
in  condemnation  of  the  Administration.  We  object  to 
bringing  this  question  down  to  the  level  of  persons.  The 
individual  is  but  an  atom — he  is  born,  he  acts,  he  dies ;  but 
principles  are  eternal,  and  this  has  been  a  contest  over  a 
principle. 

Never  before  in  the  history  of  this  country  has  there 
been  witnessed  such  a  contest  as  that  through  which  we 
have  just  passed.  Never  before  in  the  history  of  American 
politics  has  a  great  issue  been  fought  out  as  this  issue  has 
been,  by  the  voters  of  a  great  party.  On  the  fourth  of 
March,  1895,  a  few  Democrats,  most  of  them  members  of 
Congress,  issued  an  address  to  the  Democrats  of  the  nation, 
asserting  that  the  money  question  was  the  paramount  issue 
of  the  hour,  declaring  that  a  majority  of  the  Democratic 
party  had  the  right  to  control  the  action  of  the  party  on 


SELECTIONS  FOR  PRACTISE  489 

this  paramount  issue ;  and  concluding  with  the  request  that 
the  believers  in  the  free  coinage  of  silver  in  the  Democratic 
party  should  organize,  take  charge  of,  and  control  the 
policy  of  the  Democratic  party.  Three  months  later,  at 
Memphis,  an  organization  was  perfected,  and  the  silver 
Democrats  went  forth  openly  and  courageously  proclaiming 
their  belief,  and  declaring  that,  if  successful,  they  would 
crystallize  into  a  platform  the  declaration  which  they  had 
made.  Then  began  the  conflict.  With  a  zeal  approaching 
the  zeal  which  inspired  the  Crusaders  who  followed  Peter 
the  Hermit,  our  silver  Democrats  went  forth  from  victory 
unto  victory  until  they  are  now  assembled,  not  to  discuss, 
not  to  debate,  but  to  enter  up  the  judgment  already  ren- 
dered by  the  plain  people  of  this  country.  In  this  contest 
brother  has  been  arrayed  against  brother,  father  against 
son.  The  warmest  ties  of  love,  acquaintance,  and  associa- 
tion have  been  disregarded ;  old  leaders  have  been  cast  aside 
when  they  have  refused  to  give  expression  to  the  sentiments 
of  those  whom  they  would  lead,  and  new  leaders  have 
sprung  up  to  give  direction  to  this  cause  of  truth.  Thus 
has  the  contest  been  waged;  and  we  have  assembled  here 
under  as  binding  and  solemn  instructions  as  were  ever  im- 
posed upon  representatives  of  the  people. 

We  do  not  come  as  individuals.  As  individuals  we  might 
have  been  glad  to  compliment  the  gentleman  from  New 
York  [Senator  Hill]  but  we  know  that  the  people  for  whom 
we  speak  would  never  be  willing  to  put  him  in  a  position 
where  he  could  thwart  the  will  of  the  Democratic  party. 
I  say  it  was  not  a  question  of  persons ;  it  was  a  question  of 
principle,  and  it  is  not  with  gladness,  my  friends,  that  we 
find  ourselves  brought  into  conflict  with  those  who  are  now 
arrayed  on  the  other  side. 


490  HOW  TO  SPEAK  IN  PUBLIC 

The  gentleman  who  preceded  me  [ex-Governor  Russell] 
spoke  of  the  State  of  Massachusetts ;  let  me  assure  him  that 
not  one  present  in  all  this  Convention  entertains  the  least 
hostility  to  the  people  of  the  State  of  Massachusetts,  but 
we  stand  here  representing  people  who  are  the  equals,  be- 
fore the  law,  of  the  greatest  citizens  in. the  State  of  Massa- 
chusetts. When  you  [turning  to  the  gold  delegates]  come 
before  us  and  tell  us  that  we  are  about  to  disturb  your 
business  interests,  we  reply  that  you  have  disturbed  our 
business  interests  by  your  course. 

We  say  to  you  that  you  have  made  the  definition  of  a 
business  man  too  limited  in  its  application.  The  man  who 
is  employed  for  wages  is  as  much  a  business  man  as  his 
employer;  the  attorney  in  a  country  town  is  as  much  a 
business  man  as  the  corporation  counsel  in  a  great  metrop- 
olis; the  merchant  at  the  crossroads  store  is  as  much  a 
business  man  as  the  merchant  of  New  York;  the  farmer 
who  goes  forth  in  the  morning  and  toils  all  day,  who  begins 
in  spring  and  toils  all  summer,  and  who  by  the  application 
of  brain  and  muscle  to  the  natural  resources  of  the  country 
creates  wealth,  is  as  much  a  business  man  as  the  man  who 
goes  upon  the  Board  of  Trade  and  bets  upon  the  price  of 
grain;  the  miners  who  go  down  a  thousand  feet  into  the 
earth,  or  climb  two  thousand  feet  upon  the  cliffs,  and  bring 
forth  from  their  hiding-places  the  precious  metals  to  be 
poured  into  the  channels  of  trade,  are  as  much  business  men 
as  the  few  financial  magnates  who,  in  a  back  room,  corner 
the  money  of  the  world.  We  come  to  speak  of  this  broader 
class  of  business  men. 

Ah,  my  friends,  we  say  not  one  word  against  those  who 
live  upon  the  Atlantic  Coast;  but  the  hardy  pioneers  who 
have  braved  all  the  dangers  of  the  wilderness,  who  have 


SELECTIONS  FOR  PRACTISE  491 

made  the  desert  to  blossom  as  the  rose — the  pioneers  away 
out  there  [pointing  to  the  West],  who  rear  their  children 
near  to  Nature's  heart,  where  they  can  mingle  their  voices 
with  the  voices  of  the  birds — out  there  where  they  have 
erected  schoolhouses  for  the  education  of  their  young, 
churches  where  they  praise  their  Creator,  and  cemeteries 
where  rest  the  ashes  of  their  dead — these  people,  we  say, 
are  as  deserving  of  the  consideration  of  our  party  as  any 
people  in  this  country.  It  is  for  these  that  we  speak.  We 
do  not  come  as  aggressors.  Our  war  is  not  a  war  of  con- 
quest; we  are  fighting  in  the  defense  of  our  homes,  our 
families,  and  posterity.  We  have  petitioned,  and  our  peti- 
tions have  been  scorned;  we  have  entreated,  and  our  en- 
treaties have  been  disregarded;  we  have  begged,  and  they 
have  mocked  when  our  calamity  came.  We  beg  no  longer ; 
we  entreat  no  more ;  we  petition  no  more.  We  defy  them ! 

The  gentleman  from  Wisconsin  has  said  that  he  fears 
a  Robespierre.  My  friends,  in  this  land  of  the  free  you 
need  not  fear  that  a  tyrant  will  spring  up  from  among  the 
people.  What  we  need  is  an  Andrew  Jackson,  to  stand, 
as  Jackson  stood,  against  the  encroachments  of  organized 
wealth. 

They  tell  us  that  this  platform  was  made  to  catch  votes. 
We  reply  to  them  that  changing  conditions  make  new  issues ; 
that  the  principles  upon  which  Democracy  rests  are  as 
everlasting  as  the  hills,  but  that  they  must  be  applied  to 
new  conditions  as  they  arise.  Conditions  have  arisen,  and 
we  are  here  to  meet  those  conditions.  They  tell  us  that  the 
income  tax  ought  not  to  be  brought  in  here;  that  it  is  a 
new  idea.  They  criticize  us  for  our  criticism  of  the  Su- 
preme Court  of  the  United  States.  My  friends,  we  have 
not  criticized ;  we  have  simply  called  attention  to  what  you 


492  HOW  TO  SPEAK  IN  PUBLIC 

already  know.  If  you  want  criticisms,  read  the  dissenting 
opinions  of  the  court.  There  you  will  find  criticisms.  They 
say  that  we  passed  an  unconstitutional  law;  we  deny  it. 
The  income  tax  law  was  not  unconstitutional  when  it  was 
passed;  it  was  not  unconstitutional  when  it  went  before 
the  Supreme  Court  for  the  first  time;  it  did  not  become 
unconstitutional  until  one  of  the  judges  changed  his  mind, 
and  we  cannot  be  expected  to  know  when  a  judge  will 
change  his  mind.  The  income  tax  is  just.  It  simply  in- 
tends to  put  the  burdens  of  government  justly  upon  the 
backs  of  the  people.  I  am  in  favor  of  an  income  tax. 
When  I  find  a  man  who  is  not  willing  to  bear  his  share  of 
the  burdens  of  the  government  which  protects  him,  I  find 
a  man  who  is  unworthy  to  enjoy  the  blessings  of  a  govern- 
ment like  ours. 

They  say  that  we  are  opposing  national  bank  currency; 
it  is  true.  If  you  will  read  what  Thomas  Benton  said,  you 
will  find  he  said  that,  in  searching  history,  he  could  find 
but  one  parallel  to  Andrew  Jackson;  that  was  Cicero,  who 
destroyed  the  conspiracy  of  Catiline  and  saved  Rome. 
Benton  said  that  Cicero  only  did  for  Home  what  Jackson 
did  for  us  when  he  destroyed  the  bank  conspiracy  and 
saved  America.  We  say  in  our  platform  that  we  believe 
that  the  right  to  coin  and  issue  money  is  a  function  of 
government.  We  believe  it.  We  believe  that  it  is  a  part 
of  sovereignty,  and  can  no  more  with  safety  be  delegated 
to  private  individuals  than  we  could  afford  to  delegate  to 
private  individuals  the  power  to  make  penal  statutes  or 
levy  taxes.  Mr.  Jefferson,  who  was  once  regarded  as  good 
Democratic  authority,  seems  to  have  differed  in  opinion 
from  the  gentleman  who  has  addressed  us  on  the  part  of 
the  minority.  Those  who  are  opposed  to  this  proposition 


SELECTIONS  FOR  PRACTISE  493 

tell  us  that  the  issue  of  paper  money  is  a  function  of  the 
bank,  and  that  the  government  ought  to  go  out  of  the 
banking  business.  I  stand  with  Jefferson  rather  than  with 
them,  and  tell  them,  as  he  did,  that  the  issue  of  money  is 
a  function  of  government,  and  that  the  banks  ought  to  go 
out  of  the  governing  business. 

They  complain  about  the  plank  which  declares  against 
life  tenure  in  office.  They  have  tried  to  strain  it  to  mean 
that  which  it  does  not  mean.  What  we  oppose  by  that 
plank  is  the  life  tenure  which  is  being  built  up  in  Wash- 
ington, and  which  excludes  from  participation  in  official 
benefits  the  humbler  members  of  society. 

Let  me  call  your  attention  to  two  or  three  important 
things.  The  gentleman  from  New  York  says  that  he  will 
propose  an  amendment  to  the  platform  providing  that  the 
proposed  change  in  our  monetary  system  shall  not  affect 
contracts  already  made.  Let  me  remind  you  that  there  is 
no  intention  of  affecting  those  contracts  which,  according 
to  present  laws,  are  made  payable  in  gold ;  but  if  he  means 
to  say  that  we  cannot  change  our  monetary  system  without 
protecting  those  who  have  loaned  money  before  the  change 
was  made,  I  desire  to  ask  him  where,  in  law  or  in  morals, 
he  can  find  justification  for  not  protecting  the  debtors  when 
the  act  of  1873  was  passed,  if  he  now  insists  that  we  must 
protect  the  creditors. 

He  says  he  will  also  propose  an  amendment  which  will 
provide  for  the  suspension  of  free  coinage  if -we  fail  to 
maintain  the  parity  within  a  year.  We  reply  that  when 
we  advocate  a  policy  which  we  believe  will  be  successful, 
we  are  not  compelled  to  raise  a  doubt  as  to  our  own  sincer- 
ity by  suggesting  what  we  shall  do  if  we  fail.  I  ask  him, 
if  he  would  apply  his  logic  to  us,  why  he  does  not  apply  it 


494  HOW  TO  SPEAK  IN  PUBLIC 

to  himself.  He  says  he  wants  this  country  to  try  to  secure 
an  international  agreement.  Why  does  he  not  tell  us  what 
he  is  going  to  do  if  he  fails  to  secure  an  international  agree- 
ment? There  is  more  reason  for  him  to  do  that  than  there 
is  for  us  to  provide  against  the  failure  to  maintain  the 
parity.  Our  opponents  have  tried  for  twenty  years  to 
secure  an  international  agreement,  and  those  are  waiting 
for  it  most  patiently  who  do  not  want  it  at  all. 

And  now,  my  friends,  let  me  come  to  the  paramount 
issue.  If  they  ask  us  why  it  is  that  we  say  more  on  the 
money  question  than  we  say  upon  the  tariff  question,  I 
reply  that,  if  protection  has  slain  its  thousands,  the  gold 
standard  has  slain  its  tens  of  thousands.  If  they  ask  us 
why  we  do  not  embody  in  our  platform  all  the  things  that 
we  believe  in,  we  reply  that  when  we  have  restored  the 
money  of  the  Constitution  all  other  necessary  reforms  will 
be  possible;  but  that  until  this  is  done  there  is  no  other 
reform  that  can  be  accomplished. 

Why  is  it  that  within  three  months  such  a  change  has 
come  over  the  country?  Three  months  ago  when  it  was 
confidently  asserted  that  those  who  believe  in  the  gold 
standard  would  frame  our  platform  and  nominate  our  can- 
didates, even  the  advocates  of  the  gold  standard  did  not 
think  that  we  could  elect  a  President.  And  they  had  good 
reason  for  their  doubt,  because  there  is  scarcely  a  State  here 
to-day  asking  for  the  gold  standard  which  is  not  in  the 
absolute  control  of  the  Republican  party.  But  note  the 
change.  Mr.  McKinley  was  nominated  at  St.  Louis  upon 
a  platform  which  declared  for  the  maintenance  of  the  gold 
standard  until  it  can  be  changed  into  bimetallism  by  inter- 
national agreement.  Mr.  McKinley  was  the  most  popular 
man  among  the  Republicans,  and  three  months  ago  every- 


SELECTIONS  FOR  PRACTISE  495 

body  in  the  Republican  party  prophesied  his  election. 
How  is  it  to-day?  Why,  the  man  who  was  once  pleased 
to  think  that  he  looked  like  Napoleon — that  man  shudders 
to-day  when  he  remembers  that  he  was  nominated  on  the 
anniversary  of  the  battle  of  Waterloo.  Not  only  that,  but 
as  he  listens  he  can  hear  with  ever-increasing  distinctness 
the  sound  of  the  waves  as  they  beat  upon  the  lonely  shores 
of  St.  Helena. 

Why  this  change?  Ah,  my  friends,  is  not  the  reason 
for  the  change  evident  to  any  one  who  will  look  at  the 
matter?  .  No  private  character,  however  pure,  no  personal 
popularity,  however  great,  can  protect  from  the  avenging 
wrath  of  an  indignant  people  a  man  who  will  declare  that  he 
is  in  favor  of  fastening  the  gold  standard  upon  this  country, 
or  who  is  willing  to  surrender  the  right  of  self-government 
and  place  the  legislative  control  of  our  affairs  in  the  hands 
of  foreign  potentates  and  powers. 

We  go  forth  confident  that  we  shall  win.  Why?  Be- 
cause upon  the  paramount  issue  of  this  campaign  there  is 
not  a  spot  of  ground  upon  which  the  enemy  will  dare  to 
challenge  battle.  If  they  tell  us  that  the  gold  standard  is 
a  good  thing,  we  shall  point  to  their  platform  and  tell  them 
that  their  platform  pledges  the  party  to  get  rid  of  the  gold 
standard  and  substitute  bimetallism.  If  the  gold  standard 
is  a  good  thing,  why  try  to  get  rid  of  it  ?  I  call  your  atten- 
tion to  the  fact  that  some  of  the  very  people  who  are  in  this 
Convention  to-day  and  who  tell  us  that  we  ought  to  declare 
in  favor  of  international  bimetallism — thereby  declaring 
that  the  gold  standard  is  wrong  and  that  the  principle  of 
bimetallism  is  better — these  very  people  four  months  ago 
were  open  and  avowed  advocates  of  the  gold  standard,  and 
were  then  telling  us  that  we  could  not  legislate  two  metals 


496  HOW  TO  SPEAK  IN  PUBLIC 

together,  even  with  the  aid  of  all  the  world.  If  the  gold 
standard  is  a  good  thing,  we  ought  to  declare  in  favor  of  its 
retention  and  not  in  favor  of  abandoning  it ;  and  if  the  gold 
standard  is  a  bad  thing  why  should  we  wait  until  other 
nations  are  willing  to  help  us  to  let  go  ?  Here  is  the  line  of 
battle,  and  we  care  not  upon  which  issue  they  force  the 
fight;  we  are  prepared  to  meet  them  on  either  issue  or  on 
both.  If  they  tell  us  that  the  gold  standard  is  the  standard 
of  civilization,  we  reply  to  them  that  this,  the  most  en- 
lightened of  all  the  nations  of  the  earth,  has  never  declared 
for  a  gold  standard  and  that  both  the  great  parties  this  year 
are  declaring  against  it.  If  the  gold  standard  is  the  standard 
of  civilization,  why,  my  friends,  should  we  not  have  it?  If 
they  come  to  meet  us  on  that  issue  we  can  present  the  his- 
tory of  our  nation.  More  than  that;  we  can  tell  them  that 
they  will  search  the  pages  of  history  in  vain  to  find  a  single 
instance  where  the  common  people  of  any  land  have  ever 
declared  themselves  in  favor  of  the  gold  standard.  They 
can  find  where  the  holders  of  fixed  investments  have 
declared  for  a  gold  standard,  but  not  where  the  masses 
have.  Mr.  Carlisle  said  in  1878  that  this  was  a  struggle 
between  ''the  idle  holders  of  idle  capital"  and  "the  strug- 
gling masses,  who  produce  the  wealth  and  pay  the  taxes 
of  the  country ";  and,  my  friends,  the  question  we  are  to 
decide  is :  Upon  which  side  will  the  Democratic  party  fight ; 
upon  the  side  of  "the  idle  holders  of  idle  capital"  or  upon 
the  side  of  ' '  the  struggling  masses ' '  ?  That  is  the  question 
which  the  party  must  answer  first,  and  then  it  must  be 
answered  by  each  individual  hereafter.  The  sympathies 
of  the  Democratic  party,  as  shown  by  the  platform,  are  on 
the  side  of  the  struggling  masses,  who  have  ever  been  the 
foundation  of  the  Democratic  party.  There  are  two  ideas 


SELECTIONS  FOR  PRACTISE  497 

of  government.  There  are  those  who  believe  that,  if  you 
will  only  legislate  to  make  the  well-to-do  prosperous,  their 
prosperity  will  leak  through  on  those  below.  The  Dem- 
ocratic idea,  however,  has  been  that  if  you  legislate  to  make 
the  masses  prosperous,  their  prosperity  will  find  its  way 
up  through  every  class  which  rests  upon  them. 

You  come  to  us  and  tell  us  that  the  great  cities  are  in 
favor  of  the  gold  standard;  we  reply  that  the  great  cities 
rest  upon  our  broad  and  fertile  prairies.  Burn  down  your 
cities  and  leave  our  farms,  and  your  cities  will  spring  up 
again  as  if  by  magic ;  but  destroy  our  farms,  and  the  grass 
will  grow  in  the  streets  of  every  city  in  the  country. 

My  friends,  we  declare  that  this  nation  is  able  to  legis- 
late for  its  own  people  on  every  question,  without  waiting 
for  the  aid  or  consent  of  any  other  nation  on  earth;  and 
upon  that  issue  we  expect  to  carry  every  State  in  the 
Union.  I  shall  not  slander  the  inhabitants  of  the  fair  State 
of  Massachusetts  nor  the  inhabitants  of  the  State  of  New 
York  by  saying  that,  when  they  are  confronted  with  the 
proposition,  they  will  declare  that  this  nation  is  not  able 
to  attend  to  its  own  business.  It  is  the  issue  of  1776  over 
again.  Our  ancestors,  when  but  three  millions  in  number, 
had  the  courage  to  declare  their  political  independence  of 
every  other  nation;  shall  we,  their  descendants,  when  we 
have  grown  to  seventy  millions,  declare  that  we  are  less 
independent  than  our  forefathers  ? 

No,  my  friends,  that  will  never  be  the  verdict  of  our 
people.  Therefore,  we  care  not  upon  what  lines  the  battle 
is  fought.  If  they  say  bimetallism  is  good,  but  that  we 
can  not  have  it  until  other  nations  help  us,  we  reply  that, 
instead  of  having  a  gold  standard  because  England  has,  we 
will  restore  bimetallism,  and  then  let  England  have  bimetal- 


498  HOW  TO  SPEAK  IN  PUBLIC 

lism  because  the  United  States  has  it.  If  they  dare  to  come 
out  in  the  open  field  and  defend  the  gold  standard  as  a  good 
thing,  we  will  fight  them  to  the  uttermost.  Having  behind 
us  the  producing  masses  of  this  nation  and  the  world,  sup- 
ported by  the  commercial  interests,  the  laboring  interests 
and  the  toilers  everywhere,  we  will  answer  their  demand 
for  a  gold  standard  by  saying  to  them :  You  shall  not  press 
down  upon  the  brow  of  labor  this  crown  of  thorns;  you 
shall  not  crucify  mankind  upon  a  cross  of  gold. 


OWYHEE  JOE'S  STORY 
BY   ROUNSEVILLE   WILDMAN 

It  was  the  beginning  of  the  end.  The  last  tie  of  the 
mighty  Union  Pacific  was  the  first  tie  in  the  march  of  civil- 
ization into  the  great  "West." 

With  the  thunder  of  iron  wheels  and  the  reverberant 
screech  of  the  whistle,  the  Indian,  the  buffalo,  the  desperado 
fled ;  the  overland  coach  became  a  memory,  and  the  cowboy 
changed  his  buckskin  for  New  York  shoddy.  Later,  as  the 
gigantic  Pacific  system  stretched  out  its  arms  to  the  north 
and  south  and  absorbed  the  alkali  bottoms  of  Wyoming, 
the  sage  brush  plains  of  Idaho,  the  pine  forests  of  Oregon, 
even  the  lava  beds  of  northern  California,  the  pioneers  of 
'49  and  the  miners  of  '63  became  a  curiosity ;  and  the  men 
who  had  subdued  the  wilderness  from  the  back  of  an  un- 
tamed mustang,  were  styled  "mossbacks"  by  the  "tourist 
coach"  emigrants  and  relegated  to  the  background. 

Yet  it  is  only  a  little  more  than  a  decade,  since  thirty 
leather-springed,  steel-ribbed  overland  stages  were,  and  had 


SELECTIONS  FOR  PRACTISE  499 

been  for  years,  the  one  connecting  link  between  the  hardy 
miners  and  pioneers  of  southern  Idaho  and  ' '  home. ' '  Their 
very  sight  recalls  Indian  fights,  highway  robberies  and  dare- 
devil flights.  In  them  lives  the  essence  of  the  fast  dying 
'  *  Wild  West. ' '  Their  day  is  past ;  their  past  is  but  a  tale ; 
their  present  is  forgotten. 

I  asked  Owyhee  Joe  about  them  once.  Joe  had  been  a 
famous  driver.  Wild  stories  are  told  of  his  daring  trips 
up  from  Winnemucca  or  out  from  Boise  with  a  coach*  well 
loaded  with  gold-dust,  prospectors,  and  government  mail. 
His  achievements  live  in  the  memory  and  on  the  tongues 
of  the  oldest  inhabitants,  and  grow  in  luster  as  the  years 
pass. 

It  was  a  hot,  sultry  afternoon ;  Joe  was  sitting  in  my  of- 
fice, and  I  felt  free  to  lounge  back  in  my  chair  and  listen 
to  his  stirring  account  of  an  Indian  fight  he  had  been  in 
near  Kuna,  when,  unaided,  he  had  driven  off  ten  Bannocks 
and  saved  the  gold  bricks  in  the  boxes  of  the  Wells,  Fargo 
&  Co.'s  Express.  I  smiled  patronizingly  when  he  had  con- 
cluded. "And  how  about  the  time  when  you  were  relieved 
of  your  bags  without  even  an  'if  you  please?'  :  A  shade 
of  annoyance  and  chagrin  passed  over  his  bronzed  face,  and 
he  shifted  uneasily  in  his  chair. 

"It  was  a  hotter  day  nor  this  out  there  on  the  mesa,  when 
that  young  chap  stepped  out  from  behind  a  little  clump  of 
greasewood,  and  as'd  me  perlite  ernuff  to  throw  up  my 
hands.  No  argument  in  the  face  of  that  thar  shootin'  iron, 
Mr.  Editor.  He  took  over  four  thousand  clean  dust  and 
made  for  Salt  Lake  on  the  back  of  my  bes'  leader.  Never 
hearn  tell  how  we  caught  him  1  No  ?  Wall,  ye  see,  I  took 
my  wheel  hoss  and  made  for  Boise.  Found  Bill  McConnell, 
governor  and  senator  since  the  same,  Colonel  Robbins,  Jim 


500  HOW  TO  SPEAK  IN  PUBLIC 

Agnew,  an'  Hank  Fisher.  We  made  a  bee-line  'cross  coun- 
try to  head  him  off.  Changed  hosses  three  times;  We  struck 
his  trail,  found  whar  his  hoss  had  broke  down  an'  he'd 
stolen  another.  That  stolen  hoss  meant  a  necktie  party. 
Sabe? 

"In  twenty-four  hours  we  came  in  sight  of  him.  Hoss 
played  out.  Game  up.  No  thin'  but  sand  and  sage  brush 
for  miles,  except  one  lone  tree.  Kinder  placed  there  by 
Providence,  McConnell  said.  Thar  thet  young  feller  set — 
one  leg  over  the  horn  of  his  saddle.  Fine  looker.  Stood 
six  in  his  stockings.  I  knew  him  the  minute  I  sot  eyes  on 
him.  He  knew  me,  but  never  twigged.  Bill  McConnell  war 
ahead,  and  he  opened  the  meetin'  without  singin'. 

"  'Good-morning,  stranger.' 

11  'Good-morning.' 

1 1  l  Seen  anything  of  a  man  about  your  size,  straddle  of  a 
sorrel  mare  looking  a  heap  like  the  one  you  ride?' 

"  'No,  I  haven't.' 

"  'That's  a  purty  good  mare  o'  yourn.' 

"  'Yes,  she  was  worth  a  cool  five  hundred  dollars,  but 
she's  a  little  winded  now;  say,  mister,  I'll  give  you  five 
hundred  dollars  clear  for  that  one  o'  yourn  and  stop  the 
deal. '  He  was  making  a  good  bluff.  Hoss  stealin '  in  them 
days  was  death  on  the  spot.  He  knew  we  war  on  him.  His 
offer  would  well  pay  for  the  broken-down  hoss,  and  he  war 
a-bankin'  that  his  money  would  pull  him  through.  But, 
yer  see,  he  didn  't  know  McConnell.  Mac  had  been  cap  'n  of 
the  vigilants  back  in  '63,  up  in  ther  Basin,  and  had  a  name 
ter  keep  white.  He  just  smiled  at  the  man 's  innocence. 

"  'That's  a  straight  blind  o'  yourn,  pard,  an'  it  stands 
us  to  come  in,  but  we're  thar  an'  hold  you  over.  You  look 
a  leetle  mite  played  out,  as  well  as  yer  mare.  If  you'll  jest 


SELECTIONS  FOR  PRACTISE  501 

get  down  an'  jine  our  little  party,  it'll  stretch  yer  legs,  an' 
mebbe  ye  need  stretchin '  all  over. ' 

"He  got  a  little  white  under  the  gills,  but  slid  down 
without  a  word.  We  followed  suit,  and  Agnew  threw  over 
his  head  a  noose,  an'  passin'  the  other  end  over  a  limb  of 
that  lone  old  tree,  nodded  that  things  war  ready. 

' '  That  young  fellow  was  game  ter  the  last.  Never  moved 
a  muscle.  Seemed  kinder  like  a  shame.  McConnell  went 
up  to  him  and  said : 

"  'Now,  pard,  is  everything  all  right?  Does  it  fit  your 
neck  accordin'  to  Hoyle?' 

"  'All  right' 

"  'Have  you  anything  to  say  why  this  'ere  little  picnic 
shouldn't  proceed?' 

"  'Nothin'.' 

"  'Have  ye  got  any  word  ter  leave  to  yer  friends?  If  ye 
have,  make  it  short,  fur  we're  goin'  to  break  camp  inside 
er  ten  minutes. ' 

"That  young  feller  took  his  eyes  off  a  bit  of  sage  brush 
fur  the  first  time  and  looked  us  straight  in  the  eyes.  His 
eyes  war  blue.  I  took  notice  of  that,  an'  his  face  was  clean 
and  kind  of  pure-lookin '.  He  didn't  seem  to  be  takin' 
much  interest  in  what  war  goin'  on  'round  him.  Kinder 
had  a  far-away,  talkin '-ter-the-angels  look.  Made  me  feel 
as  tho  I  didn't  count  nohow.  Kept  thinkin'  of  some- 
thing I  learnt  in  Sunday-school  in  Missouri  when  I  warn't 
bigger  nor  that  basket  o'  papers.  Then  he  came  to,  an' 
drawin'  a  crumpled  letter  from  his  pocket,  spoke  with  a 
kinder  tremble  in  his  voice : 

"  'Perhaps  you  are  a  better  scholar  nor  I  be.  If  you'll 
jest  read  that  an'  be  kind  enuf  to  answer  it,  I'll  tell  yer 
what  ter  say.' 


502  HOW  TO  SPEAK  IN  PUBLIC 

"McConnell  had  already  passed  the  coil  of  rope  to  Jim 
Agriew  and  he  had  drawn  it  taut.  He  took  the  letter,  an', 
as  we  hung  around  kinder  curious  like,  he  opened  it  an' 
read  out  loud : 

" '  ETOWAH,  GAV  January  18,  1874. 

"  '  MY  DEAR  SON  JAMES  : — For  long  weary  months  I  have  waited 
for  news  from  you,  since  your  last  dear  letter  to  your  old  mother. 
God  bless  you,  James,  and  answer  my  prayers  that  this  letter 
may  reach  you,  thanking  you  for  your  ever-thoughtful  care  for 
me  in  my  old  age.  But  once  more  to  look  in  your  dear  face  and 
feel  that  my  baby  boy  was  near  me,  would  cheer  my  old  heart 
more  than  to  possess  all  the  gold  in  Idaho.  When  are  you  coming 
home  ?  You  promised  me  that  in  the  spring  you  would  come  back 
to  me.  May  the  good  God  watch  over  and  prosper  you,  and 
return  my  dear  boy  to  my  old  arms  before  I  die.  From  your 
loving  MOTHER/ 

"McConnell  had  had  a  good  eddication  back  in  Michigan, 
and  he  commenced  in  a  strong,  clear  voice,  but  afore  the 
closing  words  war  out,  it  war  all  we  could  do  ter  hear  his 
voice.  Yes,  sir,  an'  my  eyes  got  weaker  nor  a  sick  heifer's. 
Fact!  The  rope  slackened  until  it  fell  from  the  hands  of 
Jim  Agnew,  and  as  the  breath  of  the  mornin '  came  a-rushin ' 
through  the  leaves  of  that  old  tree,  and  long  shafts  o'  sun- 
light kinder  prospected  down  through  the  opening  boughs, 
someway,  my  old  throat  caved  in  like  an '  I  went  ter  thinkin ' 
o'  long,  sunny  days  on  the  banks  of  the  Missouri,  of  my  old 
dorg,  an'  uv  a  little  sister  with  eyes  jest  like  this  feller's, 
an'  of  my  old  mammy,  an'  how  she  taught  me  to  pray. 
Couldn't  help  it,  but  borrowin'  a  hoss  an*  robbin'  a  stage 
didn't  seem  a  big  enough  thing  to  string  that  boy  up  fur, 
an'  break  his  old  mother's  heart.  Guess  McConnell  war 
thir1  :r»'  o'  the  same  way,  fur  he  kind  of  reverently  like 


SELECTIONS  FOR  PRACTISE  503 

folded  up  that  soiled  bit  o'  paper  and  handed  it  to  its 
owner,  an'  without  a  word  slipped  the  noose  from  his  neck, 
an*  then  in  tones  as  gentle  as  a  mother's  asked: 

11  'War  ye  goin'  home,  stranger?' 

"  'Yes!' 

"'Good-by!' 

"The  boy  didn't  dare  to  trust  his  voice  in  thanks.  I 
knew  how  he  felt,  but  he  drew  from  his  belt  a  small  bag 
o'  twenties  an'  offered  it  to  Mac. 

"'Hoss!' 

"  'No,  take  her,  an'  good-by.' 

"He  mounted  the  mare,  while  we  sot  an'  watched  him 
out  o'  sight,  an'  then  like  a  pack  o'  starved  coyotes,  turned 
and  silently  sneaked  fur  Boise. 

"Court  war  adjourned,  verdic'  set  aside." 


THE  YACHT  CLUB  SPEECH 

Mr. 'Chairman — a — a — a — Mr.  Commodore — beg  pardon — 
I  assure  you  that  until  this  moment  I  had  not  the  remotest 
expectation  that  I  should  be  called  upon  to  reply  to  this 
toast.  [Pause,  turns  round,  pulls  MS.  out  of  pocket  and 
looks  at  it]  Therefore  I  must  beg  of  you,  Mr.  Captain — a 
—a — Mr.  Commatain — a — a — Mr. — Mr.  Cappadore — that 
you  will  pardon  the  confused  nature  of  these  remarks,  being 
as  they  must  necessarily  be  altogether  impromptu  and  ex- 
tempore. [Pause,  turns  round  and  looks  at  MS.]  But  Mr. 
Bos 'an — a — a — Mr.  Bosadore — I  feel — I  feel  even  in  these 
few  confused  expromptu  and  intempore — intomptu  and  ex- 
prempore — extemptu  and  imprempore — exprompore  re- 
marks— I  feel  that  I  can  say  in  the  words  of  the  poet,  words 


504  HOW  TO  SPEAK  IN  PUBLIC 

of  the  poet — poet — I  feel  that  I  can  say  in  the  words  of  the 
poet — of  the  poet — poet,  and  in  these  few  confused  remarks 
—in  the  words  of  the  poet — [turns  round,  looks  at  MS.]  — 
I  feel  that  I  can  say  in  the  words  of  the  poet  that  I  feel  my 
heart  swell  within  me.  Now  Mr.  Capasun,  Mr.  Commasun, 
why  does  my  heart  swell  within  me — in  the  few  confused — 
why  does  my  heart  swell  within  me — swell  within  me — swell 
within  me — what  makes  my  heart  swell  within  me — why 
does  it  swell — swell  within  me?  [Turns  round  and  looks, 
at  MS.]  Why  Mr.  Cappadore — look  at  George  Washington 
— what  did  he  do? — in  the  few  confused [Strikes  dra- 
matic attitude  with  swelled  chest  and  outstretched  arm, 
preparing  for  burst  of  eloquence  which  will  not  come.]  He 
—huh — he — huh — he — huh — [turns  round  and  looks  at 
MS.] — he  took  his  stand  upon  the  ship  of  state — he  stood 
upon  the  main  top  gallant  jiboomsail  and  reefed  the  quiver- 
ing sail — and  when  the  storms  were  waging  rildly  round  to 
wreck  his  fragile  bark,  through  all  the  howling  tempest  he 
guided  her  in  safety  into  the  harbor  of  perdition — a — a — a 
—into  the  haven  of  safety.  And  what  did  he  do  then? 
What  he  do  then?  What  he  do  then?  He — he — he — [looks 
at  MS.] — there  he  stood.  And  then  his  grateful  country- 
men gathered  round  him — they  gathered  round  George 
Washington — they  placed  him  on  the  summit  of  the  cipadel 
—their  capadol — they  held  him  up  before  the  eyes  of  the 
assembled  world — around  his  brow  they  placed  a  never- 
dying  wreath — and  then  in  thunder  tones  which  all  the 

world  might  hear [Flourishes  MS.  before  his  face, 

notices  it  and  sits  down  in  great  confusion.] 


SELECTIONS  FOR  PRACTISE  505 


THE  TWO  PICTURES 

It  was  a  bright  and  lovely  summer 's  morn, 

Fair  bloomed  the  flowers,  the  birds  sang  softly  sweet, 

The  air  was  redolent  with  perfumed  balm, 

While  nature  scattered,  with  unsparing  hand, 

Her  loveliest  graces  over  hill  and  dale. 

An  artist,  weary  of  his  narrow  room 

Within  the  city's  pent  and  heated  walls, 

Had  wandered  long  amid  the  ripening  fields, 

Until,  remembering  his  neglected  themes, 

He  thought  to  turn  his  truant  steps  toward  home. 

These  led  him  through  a  rustic,  winding  lane, 

Lined  with  green  hedge-rows,  spangled  close  with  flowers, 

And  overarched  by  trees  of  noblest  growth. 

But  when  at  last  he  reached  the  farther  end 

Of  this  sweet  labyrinth,  he  there  beheld 

A  vision  of  such  pure,  pathetic  grace, 

That  weariness  and  haste  were  both  obscured. 

It  was  a  child — a  young  and  lovely  child 

With  eyes  of  heavenly  hue,  bright  golden  hair, 

And  dimpled  hand  clasped  in  a  morning  prayer, 

Kneeling  beside  its  youthful  mother's  knee. 

Upon  that  baby  brow  of  spotless  snow, 

No  single  trace  of  guilt,  or  pain,  or  woe, 

No  line  of  bitter  grief  or  dark  despair, 

Of  envy,  hatred,  malice,  worldly  care, 

Had  ever  yet  been  written.    With  bated  breath, 

And  hand  uplifted  as  in  warning,  swift, 

The  artist  seized  his  pencil,  and  there  traced 

In  soft  and  tender  lines  that  image  fair : 


506  HOW  TO  SPEAK  IN  PUBLIC 

Then,  when  'twas  finished,  wrote  beneath  one  word, 
A  word  of  holiest  import — Innocence. 

Years  fled  and  brought  with  them  a  subtle  change, 

Scattering  Time's  snow  upon  the  artist's  brow, 

But  leaving  there  the  laurel  wreath  of  fame, 

While  all  men  spake  in  words  of  praise  his  name ; 

For  he  had  traced  full  many  a  noble  work 

Upon  the  canvas  that  had  touched  men 's  souls, 

And  drawn  them  from  the  baser  things  of  earth, 

Toward  the  light  and  purity  of  heaven. 

One  day,  in  tossing  o  'er  his  folio 's  leaves, 

He  chanced  upon  the  picture  of  the  child, 

Which  he  had  sketched  that  bright  morn  long  before, 

And  then  forgotten.    Now,  as  he  paused  to  gaze, 

A  ray  of  inspiration  seemed  to  dart 

Straight  from  those  eyes  to  his.    He  took  the  sketch, 

Placed  it  before  his  easel,  and  with  care 

That  seemed  but  pleasure,  painted  a  fair  theme. 

Touching  and  still  retouching  each  bright  lineament, 

Until  all  seemed  to  glow  with  life  divine — 

'Twas  innocence  personified.    But  still 

The  artist  could  not  pause.    He  needs  must  have 

A  meet  companion  for  his  fairest  theme ; 

And  so  he  sought  the  wretched  haunts  of  sin, 

Through  miry  courts  of  misery  and  guilt, 

Seeking  a  face  which  at  the  last  was  found. 

Within  a  prison  cell  there  crouched  a  man — 

Nay,  rather  say  a  fiend — with  countenance  seamed 

And  marred  by  all  the  horrid  lines  of  sin ; 

Each  mark  of  degradation  might  be  traced, 

And  every  scene  of  horror  he  had  known, 


SELECTIONS  FOR  PRACTISE  507 

And  every  wicked  deed  that  he  had  done, 
Were  visibly  written  on  his  lineaments; 
Even  the  last,  worst  deed  of  all,  that  left  him  here, 
A  parricide  within  a  murderer's  cell. 

Here  then  the  artist  found  him ;  and  with  hand 

Made  skilful  by  its  oft-repeated  toil, 

Transferred  unto  his  canvas  that  vile  face, 

And  also  wrote  beneath  it  just  one  word, 

A  word  of  darkest  import — it  was  Vice. 

Then  with  some  inspiration  not  his  own, 

Thinking,  perchance,  to  touch  that  guilty  heart, 

And  wake  it  to  repentance  e'er  too  late, 

The  artist  told  the  tale  of  that  bright  morn, 

Placed  the  two  pictured  faces  side  by  side, 

And  brought  the  wretch  before  them.    With  a  shriek 

That  echoed  through  those  vaulted  corridors, 

Like  to  the  cries  that  issue  from  the  lips 

Of  souls  forever  doomed  to  woe, 

Prostrate  upon  the  stony  floor  he  fell, 

And  hid  his  face  and  groaned  aloud  in  anguish. 

1 '  I  was  that  child  once — I,  yes,  even  I — 

In  the  gracious  years  forever  fled, 

That  innocent  and  happy  little  child ! 

These  very  hands  were  raised  to  God  in  prayer, 

That  now  are  reddened  with  a  mother's  blood. 

Great  Heaven !  can  such  things  be  ?    Almighty  power, 

Send  forth  Thy  dart  and  strike  me  where  I. lie!" 

He  rose,  laid  hold  upon  the  artist's  arm 

And  grasped  it  with  demoniac  power, 

The  while  he  cried :  ' '  Go  forth,  I  say,  go  forth 

And  tell  my  history  to  the  tempted  youth. 


508  HOW  TO  SPEAK  IN  PUBLIC 

I  looked  upon  the  wine  when  it  was  red, 
I  heeded  not  my  mother's  piteous  prayers, 
I  heeded  not  the  warnings  of  my  friends, 
But  tasted  of  the  wine  when  it  was  red, 
Until  it  left  a  demon  in  my  heart 
That  led  me  onward,  step  by  step,  to  this, 
This  horrible  place,  from  which  my  body  goes 
Unto  the  gallows,  and  my  soul  to  hell ! ' ' 
He  ceased  at  last.    The  artist  turned  and  fled ; 
But  even  as  he  went,  unto  his  ears 
Were  borne  the  awful  echoes  of  despair, 
Which  the  lost  wretch  flung  on  the  empty  air, 
Cursing  the  demon  that  had  brought  him  there. 


GOD 

BY   G.    R.    DERZHAVIN 

0  Thou  Eternal  One!  whose  presence  bright 
All  space  doth  occupy,  all  motion  guide : 

Unchanged  through  time's  all  devastating  flight; 
Thou  only  God !    There  is  no  God  beside ! 

Being  above  all  beings !    Mighty  One ! 

Whom  none  can  comprehend  and  none  explore; 

Who  fill'st  existence  with  Thyself  alone: 
Embracing  all — supporting — ruling  o'er — 
Being  whom  we  call  God — and  know  no  more ! 

In  its  sublime  research,  philosophy 
May  measure  out  the  ocean  deep — may  count 

The  sands  or  the  sun 's  rays — but  God !  for  Thee 
There  is  no  weight  nor  measure : — none  can  mount 

Up  to  Thy  mysteries.    Reason's  brightest  spark, 


SELECTIONS  FOR  PRACTISE  609 

Tho  kindled  by  Thy  light,  in  vain  would  try 
To  trace  Thy  counsels,  infinite  and  dark: 

And  thought  is  lost  ere  thought  can  soar  so  high, 
Even  like  past  moments  in  eternity. 

Thou  from  primeval  nothingness  didst  call 

First  chaos,  then  existence : — Lord !  on  Thee 
Eternity  had  its  foundation : — all 

Sprung  forth  from  Thee : — of  light,  joy,  harmony, 
Sole  origin : — all  life,  all  beauty  Thine. 

Thy  word  created  all,  and  doth  create ; 
Thy  splendor  fills  all  space  with  rays  divine. 

Thou  art,  and  wert,  and  shalt  be !  Glorious !  Great ! 

Light-giving,  life-sustaining  Potentate! 

Thy  chains  the  unmeasured  universe  surround, 

Upheld  by  Thee,  by  Thee  inspired  with  breath ! 
Thou  the  beginning  with  the  end  hast  bound, 

And  beautifully  mingled  life  and  death ! 
As  sparks  mount  upward  from  the  fiery  blaze, 

So  suns  are  born,  so  worlds  sprung  forth  from  Thee : 
And  as  the  spangles  in  the  sunny  rays 

Shine  round  the  silver  snow,  the  pageantry 
Of  heaven's  bright  army  glitters  in  Thy  praise. 

A  million  torches  lighted  by  Thy  hand 
Wander  unwearied  through  the  blue  abyss : 

They  own  Thy  power,  accomplish  Thy  command, 
All  gay  with  life,  all  eloquent  with  bliss. 

What  shall  we  call  them  ?    Piles  of  crystal  light — 
A  glorious  company  of  golden  streams — 

Lamps  of  celestial  ether,  burning  bright — 


510  HOW  TO  SPEAK  IN  PUBLIC 

Suns  lighting  systems  with  their  joyous  beams  ? 
But  Thou  to  these  art  as  the  noon  to  night 

Yes !  as  a  drop  of  water  in  the  sea, 
All  this  magnificence  in  Thee  is  lost : — 

What  are  ten  thousand  worlds  compared  to  Thee  ? 
And  what  am  /  then  ?  Heaven 's  unnumbered  host, 

Tho  multiplied  by  myriads,  and  arrayed 
In  all  the  glory  of  sublimest  thought, 

Is  but  an  atom  in  the  balance ;  weighed 
Against  Thy  greatness,  is  a  cipher  brought 
Against  infinity!  Oh,  what  am  I  then?  Nought! 

Nought !  yet  the  effluence  of  Thy  light  divine, 

Pervading  worlds,  hath  reached  my  bosom,  too ; 
Yes !  in  my  spirit  doth  Thy  spirit  shine, 

As  shines  the  sunbeam  in  a  drop  of  dew. 
Nought!  yet  I  live,  and  on  hope's  pinions  fly 

Eager  toward  Thy  presence ;  for  in  Thee 
I  live,  and  breathe,  and  dwell ;  aspiring  high, 

Even  to  the  throne  of  Thy  divinity. 

I  am,  0  God !  and  surely  Thou  must  be ! 

The  chain  of  being  is  complete  in  me ; 

In  me  is  matter's  last  gradation  lost, 
And  the  next  step  is  spirit — Deity ! 

I  can  command  the  lightning,  and  am  dust! 
A  monarch,  and  a  slave ;  a  worm,  a  god ! 

Whence  came  I  here  ?  and  how  so  marvelously 
Constructed  and  conceived?  unknown!  this  clod 

Lives  surely  through  some  higher  energy ; 

For  from  itself  alone  it  could  not  be ! 


SELECTIONS  FOR  PRACTISE  5H 

Creator,  yes !   Thy  wisdom  and  Thy  word 
Created  me!  Thou  source  of  life  and  good! 

Thou  spirit  of  my  spirit,  and  my  Lord ! 

Thy  light,  Thy  love,  in  their  bright  plentitude 

Filled  me  with  an  immortal  soul,  to  spring 
Over  the  abyss  of  death,  and  bade  it  wear 

The  garments  of  eternal  day,  and  wing 
Its  heavenly  flight  beyond  this  little  sphere, 
Even  to  its  source — to  Thee — its  Author  there. 


0  thoughts  ineffable !   0  visions  blest ! 

Tho  worthless  our  conceptions  all  of  Thee, 
Yet  shall  Thy  shadowed  image  fill  our  breast, 

And  waft  its  homage  to  Thy  Deity. 
God !  thus  alone  my  lonely  thoughts  can  soar ; 

Thus  seek  Thy  presence,  Being  wise  and  good ! 
Midst  Thy  vast  works  admire,  obey,  adore ; 
And  when  the  tongue  is  eloquent  no  more, 

The  soul  shall  speak  in  tears  of  gratitude. 


THE  LITTLE  STOWAWAY 

"  'Bout  three  years  ago,  afore  I  got  this  berth  as  Fm  in 
now,  I  was  second  engineer  aboard  a  Liverpool  steamer 
bound  for  New  York.  There 'd  been  a  lot  of  extra  cargo 
sent  down  just  at  the  last  minute,  and  we'd  had  no  end 
of  a  job  stowin'  it  away,  and  that  ran  us  late  o'  startin'; 
so  that,  altogether,  you  may  think,  the  cap'n  warn't  in  the 
sweetest  temper  in  the  world,  nor  the  mate  neither.  On  the 
mornin'  of  the  third  day  out  from  Liverpool,  the  chief 


512  HOW  TO  SPEAK  IN  PUBLIC 

engineer  cum  down  to  me  in  a  precious  hurry,  and  says 
he:  'Tom,  what  d'ye  think?  Blest  if  we  ain't  found  a 
stowaway ! ' 

"I  didn't  wait  to  hear  no  more,  but  up  on  deck  like  a 
skyrocket;  and  there  I  did  see  a  sight,  and  no  mistake. 
Every  man- Jack  o'  the  crew,  and  what  few  passengers  we 
had  aboard,  was  all  in  a  ring  on  the  fo'c'stle,  and  in  the 
middle  was  the  fust  mate,  lookin'  as  black  as  thunder.  Right 
in  front  of  him,  lookin'  a  reg'lar  mite  among  them  big  fel- 
lers, was  a  little  bit  o'  a  lad  not  ten  year  old — ragged  as  a 
scarecrow,  but  with  bright,  curly  hair,  and  a  bonnie  little 
face  o'  his  own,  if  it  hadn't  been  so  woful  thin  and  pale. 
The  mate  was  a  great  hulkin'  black-bearded  feller  with  a 
look  that  'ud  ha'  frightened  a  horse,  and  a  voice  fit  to  make 
one  jump  through  a  keyhole;  but  the  young  un  warn't  a 
bit  af card — he  stood  straight  up,  and  looked  him  full  in  the 
face  with  them  bright,  clear  eyes  o'  his'n,  for  all  the  world 
as  if  he  was  Prince  Half erd  himself.  You  might  ha '  heerd 
a  pin  drop,  as  the  mate  spoke. 

"  'Well,  you  young  whelp,'  says  he,  'what's  brought  you 
here?' 

"  'It  was  my  stepfather  as  done  it,'  says  the  boy,  in  a 
weak  little  voice,  but  as  steady  as  could  be.  '  Father 's  dead, 
and  mother's  married  again,  and  my  new  father  says  as 
how  he  won 't  have  no  brats  about  eatin '  up  his  wages ;  and 
he  stowed  me  away  when  nobody  warn't  lookin',  and  guv 
me  some  grub  to  keep  me  goin'  for  a  day  or  two  till  I  got 
to  sea.  He  says  I'm  to  go  to  Aunt  Jane,  at  Halifax;  and 
here 's  her  address. ' 

' '  We  all  believed  every  word  on 't,  even  without  the  paper 
he  held  out.  But  the  mate  says :  '  Look  here,  my  lad ;  that 's 


SELECTIONS  FOR  PRACTISE  513 

all  very  fine,  but  it  won't  do  here — some  o'  these  men  o* 
mine  are  in  the  secret,  and  I  mean  to  have  it  out  of  'em. 
Now,  you  just  point  out  the  man  as  stowed  you  away  and 
fed  you,  this  very  minute;  if  you  don't,  it'll  be  the  worse 
for  you ! ' 

"The  boy  looked  up  in  his  bright,  fearless  way  (it  did 
my  heart  good  to  look  at  him,  the  brave  little  chap !)  and 
says,  quietly,  '  I  've  told  you  the  truth ;  I  ain  't  got  no  more 
to  say. ' 

' '  The  mate  says  no  thin ',  but  looks  at  him  for  a  minute  as 
if  he  'd  see  clean  through  him ;  and  then  he  sings  out  to  the 
crew  loud  enough  to  raise  the  dead:  'Reeve  a  rope  to  the 
yard;  smart  now!' 

"  'Now,  my  lad,  you  see  that  'ere  rope?  Well,  I'll  give 
you  ten  minutes  to  confess;  and  if  you  don't  tell  the  truth 
afore  the  time 's  up,  I  '11  hang  you  like  a  dog ! ' 

"The  crew  all  stared  at  one  another  as  if  they  couldn't 
believe  their  ears  (I  didn't  believe  mine,  I  can  tell  ye),  and 
then  a  low  growl  went  among  'em,  like  a  wild  beast  awakin' 
out  of  a  nap. 

1 '  '  Silence  there ! '  shouts  the  mate,  in  a  voice  like  the  roar 
of  a  nor'easter.  'Stan'  by  to  run  for'ard!'  as  he  held  the 
noose  ready  to  put  it  round  the  boy's  neck.  The  little  fel- 
low never  flinched  a  bit*,  but  there  was  some  among  the 
sailors  (big  strong  chaps  as  could  ha'  felled  an  ox)  as  shook 
like  leaves  in  the  wind.  I  clutched  hold  o '  a  handspike,  and 
held  it  behind  my  back,  all  ready. 

"  'Tom,'  whispers  the  chief  engineer  to  me,  'd'ye  think 
he  really  means  to  do  it  ? ' 

"  'I  don't  know,'  says  I,  through  my  teeth;  'but  if  he 
does,  he  shall  go  first,  if  I  swings  for  it!' 


514  HOW  TO  SPEAK  IN  PUBLIC 

"I've  been  in  many  an  ugly  scrape  in  my  time,  but  I 
never  felt  'arf  as  bad  as  I  did  then.  Every  minute  seemed 
as  long  as  a  dozen ;  and  the  tick  o'  the  mate's  watch,  reg'lar, 
pricked  my  ears  like  a  pin. 

"  'Eight  minutes,'  says  the  mate,  his  great,  deep  voice 
breakin'  in  upon  the  silence  like  the  toll  o'  a  funeral  bell. 
'If  you've  got  anything  to  confess,  my  lad,  you'd  best  out 
with  it,  for  ye 're  time's  nearly  up.' 

"  'I've  told  you  the  truth,'  answers  the  boy,  very  pale, 
but  as  firm  as  ever.  '  May  I  say  my  prayers,  please  1 ' 

"The  mate  nodded;  and  down  goes  the  poor  little  chap 
on  his  knees  and  puts  up  his  poor  little  hands  to  pray.  I 
couldn  't  make  out  what  he  said,  but  I  '11  be  bound  God  heard 
it  every  word.  Then  he  ups  on  his  feet  again,  and  puts  his 
hands  behind  him,  and  says  to  the  mate  quite  quietly :  '  I  'm 
ready. ' 

"And  then,  sir,  the  mate's  hard,  grim  face  broke  up  all 
to  once,  like  I've  seed  the  ice  in  the  Baltic.  He  snatched 
up  the  boy  in  his  arms,  and  kissed  him,  and  burst  out  a- 
cryin'  like  a  child;  and  I  think  there  warn't  one  of  us  as 
didn't  do  the  same.  I  know  I  did  for  one. 

' '  '  God  bless  you,  my  boy ! '  says  he,  smoothin '  the  child 's 
hair  with  his  great  hard  hand.  'You're  a  true  Englishman, 
every  inch  of  you;  you  wouldn't  tell  a  lie  to  save  yer  life! 
Well,  if  so  be  as  yer  father's  cast  yer  off,  I'll  be  yer  father 
from  this  day  forth ;  and  if  I  ever  forget  you,  then  may  God 
forget  me!' 

* '  And  he  kep '  his  word,  too.  When  we  got  to  Halifax,  he 
found  out  the  little  un  's  aunt,  and  gev '  her  a  lump  o '  money 
to  make  him  comfortable;  and  now  he  goes  to  see  the 
youngster  every  voyage,  as  reg'lar  as  can  be;  and  to  see  the 
pair  on  'em  together — the  little  chap  so  fond  of  him,  and 


SELECTIONS  FOR  PRACTISE  515 

not  bearin'  him  a  bit  o'  grudge — it's  'bout  as  pretty  a 
sight  as  ever  I  seed.  And  now,  sir,  axin'  yer  parding,  it's 
time  for  me  to  be  goin'  below;  so  I'll  just  wish  yer  good- 
night." 


ARNOLD  WINKELREID 

BY  JAMES  MONTGOMERY 

"Make  way  for  Liberty!" — he  cried; 
Made  way  for  liberty,  and  died! 

In  arms  the  Austrian  phalanx  stood, 
A  living  wall,  a  human  wood ! 
Impregnable  their  front  appears, 
All  horrent  with  projected  spears. 
Opposed  to  these,  a  hovering  band 
Contended  for  their  fatherland; 
Peasants  whose  new-found  strength  had  broke 
From  manly  necks  the  ignoble  yoke: 
Marshaled  once  more  at  Freedom's  call, 
They  came  to  conquer  or  to  fall. 

And  now  the  work  of  life  and  death 
Hung  in  the  passing  of  a  breath ; 
The  fire  of  conflict  burned  within; 
The  battle  trembled  to  begin ; 
Yet,  while  the  Austrians  held  their  ground, 
Point  for  assault  was  nowhere  found ; 
Where'er  the  impatient  Switzers  gazed, 
The  unbroken  line  of  lances  blazed; 


516  HOW  TO  SPEAK  IN  PUBLIC 

That  line  't  were  suicide  to  meet 

And  perish  at  their  tyrants'  feet. 

And  could  they  rest  within  their  graves, 

To  leave  their  homes  the  haunts  of  slaves? 

Would  they  not  feel  their  children  tread 

With  clanking  chains,  above  their  head? 

It  must  not  be :  this  day,  this  hour, 
Annihilates  the  invaders'  power. 
All  Switzerland  is  in  the  field, 
She  will  not  fly ;  she  cannot  yield ; 
She  must  not  fall ;  her  better  fate 
Here  gives  her  an  immortal  date. 
Few  were  the  numbers  she  could  boast; 
But  every  freeman  was  a  host, 
And  felt  as  't  were  a  secret  known 
That  one  should  turn  the  scale  alone : 
While  each  unto  himself  was  he 
On  whose  sole  arm  hung  victory. 

It  did  depend  on  one,  indeed ; 
Behold  him — Arnold  Winkelreid; 
There  sounds  not  to  the  trump  of  Fame 
The  echo  of  a  nobler  name. 
Unmarked,  he  stood  among  the  throng, 
In  rumination  deep  and  long, 
Till  you  might  see,  with  sudden  grace, 
The  very  thought  come  o  'er  his  face ; 
And,  by  the  motion  of  his  form, 
Anticipate  the  bursting  storm; 
And,  by  the  uplifting  of  his  brow, 
Tell  where  the  bolt  would  strike  and  how. 


SELECTIONS  FOR  PRACTISE  517 

But  't  was  no  sooner  thought  than  done — 
The  field  was  in  a  moment  won ! 
"Make  way  for  liberty!"  he  cried: 
Then  ran  with  arms  extended  wide, 
As  if  his  dearest  friend  to  clasp ; 
Ten  spears  he  swept  within  his  grasp. 
"Make  way  for  Liberty!"  he  cried; 
Their  keen  points  met  from  side  to  side, 
He  bowed  among  them  like  a  tree, 
And  thus  made  way  for  Liberty. 

Swift  to  the  breach  his  comrades  fly — 

"Make  way  for  Liberty!"  they  cry; 

And  through  the  Austrian  phalanx  dart, 

As  rushed  the  spears  through  Arnold's  heart; 

While,  instantaneous  as  his  fall, 

Rout,  ruin,  panic  scattered  all: 

An  earthquake  could  not  overthrow 

A  city  with  a  surer  blow. 

Thus  Switzerland  again  was  free ; 
Thus  Death  made  way  for  Liberty. 


ON  THE  RAPPAHANNOCK 

The  sun  had  set,  and  in  the  distant  West 
The  last  red  streaks  had  faded;  night  and  rest 
Fell  on  the  earth;  stilled  was  the  cannon's  roar; 
And  many  a  soldier  slept!  to  wake  no  more. 
'Twas  early  Spring — a  calm  and  lovely  night — 
The  moon  had  flooded  all  the  earth  with  light. 


518  HOW  TO  SPEAK  IN  PUBLIC 

On  either  side  the  Rappahannock  lay 

The  armies ;  resting  till  the  break  of  day 

Should  call  them  to  renew  the  fight.    So  near 

Together  were  the  camps  that  each  could  hear 

The  other's  sentry  call.    And  now  appear 

The  blazing  bivouac  fires  on  every  hill, 

And  save  the  tramp  of  pickets  all  is  still. 

Between  those  silent  hills  in  beauty  flows 

The  Rappahannock.    How  its  bosom  glows! 

How  all  its  sparkling  waves  reflect  the  light 

And  add  new  glories  to  the  starlit  night. 

But  hark !    From  Northern  hill  there  steal  along 

The  strains  of  martial  music  mixed  with  song : 

"Star  Spangled  Banner,  may'st  thou  ever  wave, 

Over  the  land  we  shed  our  blood  to  save ! ' ' 

And  still  they  sing  those  words :  ' '  Our  cause  is  just 

We'll  triumph  in  the  end;  in  God  we  trust; 

Star  Spangled  Banner,  wave,  forever  wave, 

Over  a  land  united,  free  and  brave ! ' ' 

Scarce  had  this  died  away  when  all  along 

The  river  rose  another  glorious  song: 

A  thousand  lusty  throats  the  chorus  sing : 

With  "Rally  Round  the  Flag,"  the  hilltops  ring. 

And  well  they  sang.    Each  heart  was  filled  with  joy. 

From  first  in  rank  to  little  drummer-boy. 

Then  loud  huzzas  and  wildest  cheers  were  given, 

That  seemed  to  cleave  the  air  and  reach  to  heaven. 

The  Union  songs,  the  loud  and  heartfelt  cheers 

Fall  in  the  Southern  camp  on  listening  ears. 

While  talking  at  their  scanty  evening  meal 

They  pause  and  grasp  their  trusty  blades  of  steel. 

Fearless  they  stand  and  ready  for  the  fray; 


SELECTIONS  FOR  PRACTISE  519 

Such  sounds  can  startle  them,  but  not  dismay. 

Alas !    Those  strains  of  music  which  of  yore 

Could  rouse  their  hearts,  are  felt  by  them  no  more. 

When  the  last  echo  of  the  song  had  died 

And  all  was  silent  on  the  Northern  side, 

There  came  from  Southern  hill,  with  gentle  swell, 

The  air  of  " Dixie"  which  was  loved  so  well 

By  every  man  that  wore  the  coat  of  gray, 

And  is  revered  and  cherished  to  this  day. 

"In  Dixie's  Land"  they  swore  to  live  and  die, 

That  was  their  watchword,  that  their  battle-cry. 

Then  rose  on  high  the  wild  Confederate  yell, 

Resounding  over  every  hill  and  dell. 

Cheer  after  cheer  went  up  that  starry  night 

From  men  as  brave  as  ever  saw  the  ligfht. 

Now  all  is  still.    Each  side  has  played  its  part. 

How  simple  songs  will  fire  a  soldier's  heart. 

But  hark !    0  'er  Rappahannock  's  stream  there  floats 

Another  tune ;  but  ah !  how  sweet  the  notes. 

Not  such  as  lash  men's  passions  into  foam, 

But — richest  gem  of  song — 'Tis  "Home,  Sweet  Home !" 

Played  by  the  "band,  it  reached  the  very  soul, 

And  down  the  veteran's  cheeks  the  tear-drop  stole. 

On  either  side  the  stream,  from  North  and  South, 

Men  who  would  march  up  to  the  cannon's  mouth, 

Wept  now  like  children.    Tender  hearts  and  true 

Were  beating  'neath  those  coats  of  gray  and  blue. 

The  sentry  stopped  and  rested  on  his  gun, 

While  back  to  home  his  thoughts  unhindered  run. 

He  thought  of  loving  wife  and  children  there 

Deprived  of  husband's  and  of  father's  care. 

And  stripling  lads,  scarce  strong  enough  to  bear 


520  HOW  TO  SPEAK  IN  PUBLIC 

The  weight  of  saber  or  of  knapsack,  tried 
To  stop  their  tears  with  foolish,  boyish  pride. 
They  might  as  well  have  sought  to  stop  the  tide ! 
Through  both  those  hostile  camps  the  music  stole 
•  And  stirred  each  soldier  to  his  inmost  soul. 
From  North  and  South,  in  sympathy,  there  rose 
A  shout  tremendous ;  forgetting  they  were  foes, 
Both  armies  joined  and  shouted  with  one  voice 
That  seemed  to  make  the  very  heavens  rejoice. 

Sweet  music 's  power.    One  chord  doth  make  us  wild. 
But  change  the  strain,  we  weep  as  little  child. 
Touch  yet  another,  men  charge  the  battery-gun, 
And  by  those  martial  strains  a  victory 's  won ! 
But  there 's*  one  strain  that  friends  and  foes  will  win, 
One  magic  touch  that  makes  the  whole  world  kin: 
No  heart  so  cold,  but  will,  tho  far  it  roam, 
Respond  with  tender  thrill  to  "Home,  Sweet  Home!' 


DEATH  OF  LITTLE  JO 

BY    CHARLES   DICKENS 

"Well,  Jo,  what  is  the  matter?    Don't  be  frightened." 

"I  thought,"  says  Jo,  who  has  started  and  is  looking 
round, — "I  thought  I  was  in  Tom-all- Alone 's  agin.  Ain't 
there  nobody  here  but  you,  Mr.  Woodcot  ? ' ' 

"Nobody." 

"And  I  ain't  took  back  to  Tom-all-Alone 's,  am  I,  sir?" 


"No." 

Jo  closes  his  eyes,  muttering,  "I  am  wery  thankful. 


SELECTIONS  FOR  PRACTISE  521 

After  watching  him  closely,  a  little  while,  Allan  puts  his 
mouth  very  near  his  ear,  and  says  to  him  in  a  low,  distinct 
voice : 

"Jo,  did  you  ever  know  a  prayer?" 

1 '  Never  know  'd  no  think,  sir. ' ' 

' '  Not  so  much  as  one  short  prayer  ? ' ' 

"No,  sir.  Nothink  at  all.  Mr.  Chadbands  he  wos  a- 
prayin'  wunst  at  Mr.  Sangsby's  and  I  heerd  him,  but  he 
sounded  as  if  he  wos  a-speakin'  to  hisself  and  not  to  me. 
He  prayed  a  lot,  but  I  couldn't  make  out  nothink  on  it. 
Different  times  there  wos  other  gen '1 'men  come  down  to 
Tom-all- Alone 's  a-prayin',  but  they  all  mostly  sed  as  the 
t'other  wuns  prayed  wrong,  and  all  mostly  sounded  to  be 
a-talkin'  to  theirselves  or  a-passin'  blame  on  the  t 'others, 
and  not  a-talkin '  to  us.  We  never  know  'd  nothink.  I  never 
know  'd  what  it  wos  all  about. ' ' 

It  takes  him  a  long  time  to  say  this ;  and  few  but  an  ex- 
perienced and  attentive  listener  could  hear,  or  hearing, 
understand  him.  After  a  short  relapse  into  sleep  or  stupor, 
he  makes,  of  a  sudden,  a  strong  effort  to  get  out  of  bed. 

1 '  Stay,  Jo,  stay !    What  now  f " . 

"It's  time  for  me  to  go  to  that  there  buryin '-ground, 
sir,"  he  returns  with  a  wild  look. 

"Lie  down  and  tell  me.    What  burying-ground,  Jo?" 

"Where  they  laid  him  as  was  wery  good  to  me;  wery 
good  to  me  indeed,  he  wos.  It's  time  for  me  to  go  down 
to  that  there  bury  in '-ground,  sir,  and  ask  to  be  put  along 
with  him.  I  wants  to  go  there  and  be  buried.  He  used 
fur  to  say  to  me,  'I  am  as  poor  as  you  to-day,  Jo,'  he  ses. 
I  wants  to  tell  him  that  I  am  as  poor  as  him,  now,  and  have 
come  there  to  be  laid  along  with  him." 

"By  and  by,  Jo;  by  and  by." 


522  HOW  TO  SPEAK  IN  PUBLIC 


<  < 


:Ah!  P'r'aps  they  wouldn't  do  it  if  I  wos  to  go  my- 
self. But  will  you  promise  to  have  me  took  there,  sir,  and 
laid  along  with  him?" 

"I  will,  indeed." 

1 '  Thankee,  sir !  thankee,  sir !  They  '11  have  to  get  the  key 
of  the  gate  afore  they  can  take  me  in,  for  it's  allus  locked. 
And  there's  a  step  there,  as  I  used  fur  to  clean  with  my 
broom.  It's  turned  wery  dark,  sir.  Is  there  any  light  a- 
comin '  ?  " 

"It  is  coming  fast,  Jo." 

Fast.  The  cart  is  shaken  all  to  pieces,  and  the  rugged 
road  is  very  near  its  end. 

"Jo,  my  poor  fellow!" 

"I  hear  you,  sir,  in  the  dark,  but  I'm  a-gropin' — a- 
gropin ' — let  me  catch  hold  of  your  hand. ' ' 

"Jo,  can  you  say  what  I  say?" 

"I'll  say  any  think  as  you  say,  sir,  for  I  knows  it's  good." 

"Our  Father." 

"Our  Father! — Yes,  that's  wery  good,  sir." 

"Which  art  in  heaven!" 

"Art  in  heaven! — Is  the  light  a-comin',  sir?" 

"  It  is  close  at  hand.    Hallowed  be  Thy  name. ' ' 

'  '  Hallowed  be— Thy— name ! ' ' 

The  light  is  come  upon  the  dark,  benighted  way — dead! 

Dead!  your  majesty — dead!  my  lords  and  gentlemen- 
dead  !  right  reverends  and  wrong  reverends  of  every  order 
— dead!  men  and  women,  born  with  heavenly  compassio^ 
in  your  hearts — and  dying  thus  around  us  every  day. 


SELECTIONS  FOB  PRACTISE  523 

THE  DISCONTENTED  PENDULUM 
BY   JANE   TAYLOR 

An  old  clock,  that  had  stood  for  fifty  years  in  a  farmer's 
kitchen,  without  giving  its  owner  any  cause  of  complaint, 
early  one  summer 's  morning,  before  the  family  was  stirring, 
suddenly  stopped.  Upon  this,  the  dial-plate  (if  we  may 
credit  the  fable)  changed  countenance  with  alarm;  the 
hands  made  a  vain  effort  to  continue  their  course;  the 
wheels  remained  motionless  with  surprise ;  the  weights  hung 
speechless;  each  member  felt  disposed  to  lay  the  blame  on 
the  others.  At  length  the  dial  instituted  a  formal  inquiry 
as  to  the  cause  of  the  stagnation;  when  hands,  wheels, 
weights,  with  one  voice  protested  their  innocence. 

But  now  a  faint  tick  was  heard  below  from  the  pendulum, 
who  thus  spoke:  "I  confess  myself  to  be  the  sole  cause  of 
the  present  stoppage;  and  I  am  willing,  for  the  general 
satisfaction,  to  assign  my  reasons.  The  truth  is,  that  I 
am  tired  of  ticking."  Upon  hearing  this,  the  old  clock 
became  so  enraged  that  it  was  on  the  very  point  of  striking. 

"Lazy  wire!"  exclaimed  the  dial-plate,  holding  up  its 
hands. 

"Very  good!"  replied  the  pendulum,  "it  is  vastly  easy 
for  you,  Mistress  Dial,  who  have  always,  as  everybody 
knows,  set  yourself  up  above  me — it  is  vastly  easy  for  you, 
I  say,  to  accuse  other  people  of  laziness! — you,  who  have 
had  nothing  to  do  all  the  days  of  your  life  but  to  stare  peo- 
ple in  the  face,  and  amuse  yourself  with  watching  all  that 
goes  on  in  the  kitchen!  Think,  I  beseech  you,  how  you 
would  like  to  be  shut  up  for  life  in  this  dark  closet,  and 
to  wag  backward  and  forward,  year  after  year,  as  I  do. " 


524  HOW  TO  SPEAK  IN  PUBLIC 

"As  to  that,"  said  the  dial,  "is  there  not  a  window  in 
your  house  on  purpose  for  you  to  look  through?"  "For 
all  that,"  resumed  the  pendulum,  "it  is  very  dark  here; 
and,  altho  there  is  a  window,  I  dare  not  stop,  even  for  an 
instant,  to  look  out  at  it.  Besides,  I  am  really  tired  of  my 
way  of  life ;  and,  if  you  wish,  I  '11  tell  you  how  I  took  this 
disgust  at  my  employment.  I  happened  this  morning  to 
be  calculating  how  many  times  I  should  have  to  tick  in 
the  course  of  only  the  next  twenty-four  hours;  perhaps 
some  of  you,  above  there,  can  give  me  the  exact  sum. ' ' 

The  minute-hand,  being  quick  at  figures,  presently  re- 
plied :  ' '  Eighty-six  thousand,  four  hundred  times. ' ' 

"Exactly  so,"  replied  the  pendulum;  "well,  I  appeal 
to  you  all,  if  the  very  thought  of  this  was  not  enough  to 
fatigue  one;  and  when  I  began  to  multiply  the  strokes  of 
one  day  by  those  of  months  and  years,  really  it  is  no  won- 
der if  I  felt  discouraged  at  the  prospect;  and  so,  after  a 
great  deal  of  reasoning  and  hesitation,  thinks  I  to  myself, 
I '11  stop." 

The  dial  could  scarcely  keep  its  countenance  during  this 
harangue;  but,  resuming  its  gravity,  thus  replied:  "Dear 
Mr.  Pendulum,  I  am  really  astonished  that  such  a  useful, 
industrious  person  as  yourself  should  have  been  overcome 
by  this  sudden  inaction.  It  is  true  you  have  done  a  great 
deal  of  work  in  your  time;  so  have  we  all,  and  are  likely 
to  do;  which,  altho  it  may  fatigue  us  to  think  of,  the  ques- 
tion is,  whether  it  will  fatigue  us  to  do.  Would  you  now 
do  me  the  favor  to  give  about  half  a  dozen  strokes,  to  illus- 
trate my  argument?" 

The  pendulum  complied,  and  ticked  six  times  in  its  usual 
pace. 

"Now,"  resumed  the  dial,  "may  I  be  allowed  to  inquire 


SELECTIONS  FOR  PRACTISE  525 

if  that  exertion  was  at  all  fatiguing  or  disagreeable  to 
you?"  "Not  in  the  least/'  replied  the  pendulum;  "it  is 
not  of  six  strokes  that  I  complain,  nor  of  sixty,  but  of 
millions."  "Very  good,"  replied  the  dial;  "but  recollect, 
that  tho  you  may  think  of  a  million  strokes  in  an  instant, 
you  are  required  to  execute  but  one;  and  that,  however 
often  you  may  hereafter  have  to  swing,  a  moment  will  al- 
ways be  given  you  to  swing  in." 

"That  consideration  staggers  me,  I  confess,"  said  the 
pendulum. 

"Then  I  hope,"  resumed  the  dial-plate,  "we  shall  all 
immediately  return  to  our  duty;  for  the  maids  will  lie  in 
bed  if  we  stand  idling  thus." 

Upon  this,  the  weights,  who  had  never  been  accused  of 
light  conduct,  used  all  their  influence  in  urging  him  to 
proceed;  when,  as  with  one  consent,  the  wheels  began  to 
turn,  the  hands  began  to  move,  the  pendulum  began  to 
swing,  and,  to  its  credit,  ticked  as  loud  as  ever ;  while  a  red 
beam  of  the  rising  sun,  that  streamed  through  a  hole  in 
the  kitchen,  shining  full  upon  the  dial-plate,  it  brightened 
up,  as  if  nothing  has  been  the  matter. 

When  the  farmer  came  down  to  breakfast  that  morning, 
upon  looking  at  the  clock,  he  declared  that  his  watch  had 
gained  half  an  hour  in  the  night. 


526  HOW  TO  SPEAK  IN  PUBLIC 

THE  MASQUERADE 

BY  JOHN  G.   SAXE 

Count  Felix  was  a  man  of  worth 

By  Fashion's  strictest  definition; 
For  he  had  money,  manners,  birth, 
And  that  most  slippery  thing  on  earth 
Which  social  critics  call  position. 

And  yet  the  Count  was  seldom  gay; 

The  rich  and  noble  have  their  crosses; 
And  he — as  he  was  wont  to  say — 
Had  seen  some  trouble  in  his  day, 

And  met  with  several  serious  losses. 

Among  the  rest,  he  lost  his  wife, 

A  very  model  of  a  woman, 
With  every  needed  virtue  rife 
To  lead  a  spouse  a  happy  life — 

Such  wives  (in  France)  are  not  uncommon. 

The  lady  died,  and  left  him  sad 

And  lone,  to  mourn  the  best  of  spouses; 
She  left  him  also — let  me  add — 
One  girl,  and  all  the  wealth  she  had, 
The  rent  of  half  a  dozen  houses. 

I  cannot  tarry  to  discuss 

The  weeping  husband's  desolation; 
Upon  her  tomb  he  wrote  it  thus : — 

II  FELIX  infelicissimus!" 

In  very  touching  ostentation. 


SELECTIONS  FOR  PRACTISE  527 

At  length  when  many  years  had  fled, 
And  Father  Time,  the  great  physician, 

Had  healed  his  sorrow  for  the  dead, 

Count  Felix  took  it  in  his  head 
To  change  his  wearisome  condition. 


And  yet  the  Count  might  well  despond 

Of  tying  soon  the  silken  tether ; 
Wise,  witty,  handsome,  faithful,  fond, 
And  twenty — not  a  year  beyond — 

Are  charming — when  they  come  together. 


But  more  than  that,  the  man  required 

A  wife,  to  share  his  whims  and  fancies, 
Admire  alone  what  he  admired, 
Desire,  of  course,  what  he  desired, 
And  show  it  in  her  very  glances. 


Long,  long,  the  would-be-wooer  tried 
To  find  his  precious  ultimatum — 

All  earthly  charms  in  one  fair  bride. 

But  still  in  vain  he  sought  and  sighed. 
He  couldn't  manage  to  get  at  'em. 

The  Count's  high  hopes  began  to  fade 
His  plans  were  not  at  all  advancing; 

When  lo,  one  day,  his  valet  made 

Some  mention  of  a  Masquerade. 
"I'll  go,"  said  he,  "and  see  the  dancing." 


528  HOW  TO  SPEAK  IN  PUBLIC 

Count  Felix  found  the  crowd  immense, 

And  had  he  been  a  censor  morum, 
He  might  have  said  without  offense, 
Got  up  regardless  of  expense, 

And  some — regardless  of  decorum. 


And  one  among  the  motley  brood 

He  saw,  who  shunned  the  wanton  dances, 
A  sort  of  demi-nun,  who  stood 
In  ringlets  flashing  from  a  hood, 
And  seemed  to  seek  our  hero's  glances. 


The  Count  delighted  with  her  air, 

Drew  near,  the  better  to  behold  her; 
Her  form  was  slight,  her  skin  was  fair, 
And  maidenhood  you  well  might  swear, 
Breathed  from  the  dimples  in  her  shoulder. 

He  spoke ;  she  answered  with  a  grace 
That  showed  the  girl  no  vulgar  heiress. 

And  if  the  features  one  may  trace 

In  voices,  hers  betrayed  a  face, 
The  finest  to  be  found  in  Paris. 


And  then  such  wit;  in  repartee 

She  shone  without  the  least  endeavor — 
A  beauty  and  a  belle  esprit, 
A  scholar,  too,  was  plain  to  see. 
Whoever  saw  a  girl  so  clever? 


SELECTIONS  FOR  PRACTISE  529 

Her  taste  he  ventured  to  explore 
In  books,  the  graver  and  the  lighter, 

And  mentioned  authors  by  the  score. 

Mon  dieu !    In  every  sort  of  lore, 
She  always  chose  his  favorite  writer. 


She  loved  the  poets;  but  confessed 
Racine  beat  all  the  others  hollow; 

At  least,  she  thought  his  style  the  best. 

Racine!  his  literary  taste. 
Eacine!  his  maximus  appollo. 


Whatever  topic  he  might  name, 

Their  minds  were  strangely  sympathetic. 
Of  courtship,  marriage,  fortune,  fame, 
Their  views  and  feelings  were  the  same. 

Parbleu!  he  cried.    It  looks  prophetic. 


"Come  let  us  seek  an  ampler  space; 

This  heated  room,  I  can't  abide  it. 
That  mask  I  'm  sure  is  out  of  place, 
And  hides  the  fairest  sweetest  face.'* 

Said  she,  "I  wear  the  mask  to  hide  it." 

The  answer  was  extremely  pat, 
And  gave  the  Count  a  deal  of  pleasure. 

"C'est  vrai.    I  did  not  think  of  that. 

Come  let  us  go  where  we  can  chat 

And  eat  (I'm  hungry)  at  our  leisure." 


530  HOW  TO  SPEAK  IN  PUBLIC 

* '  I  'm  hungry,  too, ' '  she  said,  and  went 
Without  the  least  attempt  to  cozen; 
Like  ladies  who  refuse,  relent, 
Debate,  oppose,  and  then  consent 
To  eat  enough  for  half  a  dozen. 


And  so  they  sat  them  down  to  dine, 
Solus  cum  sola,  gay  and  merry. 

The  Count  enquires  the  kind  of  wine 

To  which  his  charmer  may  incline. 
Ah !  Quelle  merveille !    She  answers  sherry ! 


What  will  she  eat?    She  takes  the  carte, 
And  notes  the  viands  that  she  wishes ; 
* '  Pardon  Monsieur !  what  makes  you  start  ? ' ' 
As  if  she  knew  his  tastes  by  heart, 
The  lady  named  his  favorite  dishes! 

Was  e'er  such  sympathy  before? 

The  Count  was  really  half  demented ; 
He  kissed  her  hand,  and  roundly  swore 
He  loved  her  perfectly ! — nay,  more, — 

He'd  wed  her — if  the  gods  consented! 

" Monsieur  is  very  kind,"  she  said, 
"His  love  so  lavishly  bestowing 
On  one  who  never  thought  to  wed, — 
And  least  of  all," — she  raised  her  head — 
"  Tis  late,  Sir  Knight,  I  must  be  going!" 


SELECTIONS  FOR  PRACTISE  531 

Count  Felix  sighed,  and  as  he  drew 

Her  shawl  about  her,  at  his  leisure, 
"What  street?"  he  asked;  "my  cab  is  due." 
"No! — no!"  she  said,  "I  go  with  you! 
That  is — if  it  may  be  your  pleasure." 


Of  course,  there's  little  need  to  say 

The  Count  delighted  in  her  capture; 
Away  he  drove, — and  all  the  way 
He  murmured,  "QUELLE  FELICITE!" 
In  very  ecstasy  of  rapture. 

Arrived  at  home — just  where  a  fount 
Shot  forth  a  jet  of  lucent  water — 

He  helped  the  lady  to  dismount; 

She  drops  her  mask — and  lo ! — the  Count — 
Sees — Dieu  de  ciel! — his  only  daughter! 

' l  Good  night ! "  she  said, — ' '  I  'm  very  well, 

Altho  you  thought  my  health  was  fading ; 
Be  good — and  I  will  never  tell — 
('Twas  funny  tho)  of  what  befell 
When  you  and  I  went  masquerading!" 


532  HOW  TO  SPEAK  IN  PUBLIC 

THE  STAR-SPANGLED  BANNER 
BY  FRANCIS  SCOTT  KEY 

Oh,  say,  can  you  see,  by  the  dawn's  early  light, 

What  so  proudly  we  hailed  at  the  twilight's  last  gleaming; 
Whose  broad  stripes  and  bright  stars,  through  the  perilous 

fight, 
O'er  the  ramparts  we  watched,  were  so  gallantly  stream 

ing? 

And  the  rockets'  red  glare,  the  bombs  bursting  in  air, 
Gave  proof  through  the  night  that  our  flag  was  still  there ; 
Oh,  say,  does  that  star-spangled  banner  yet  wave 
O'er  the  land  of  the  free  and  the  home  of  the  brave? 


On  the  shore,  dimly  seen  through  the  mists  of  the  deep, 
Where  the  foe's  haughty  host  in  dread  silence  reposes, 

What  is  that  which  the  breeze  o  'er  the  towering  steep, 
As  it  fitfully  blows,  half  conceals,  half  discloses? 

Now  it  catches  the  gleam  of  the  morning's  first  beam; 

Its  full  glory,  reflected,  now  shines  on  the  stream ; 

'Tis  the  star-spangled  banner,  oh,  long  may  it  wave 

0  'er  the  land  of  the  free  and  the  home  of  the  brave. 


And  where  is  the  band  who  so  vauntingly  swore, 
'Mid  the  havoc  of  war  and  the  battle's  confusion, 

A  home  and  a  country  they'd  leave  us  no  more? 

Their  blood  hath  washed  out  their  foul  footsteps'  pol- 
lution. 


SELECTIONS  FOR  PRACTISE  533 

No  refuge  could  save  the  hireling  and  slave 
From  the  terror  of  flight,  or  the  gloom  of  the  grave; 
And  the  star-spangled  banner  in  triumph  doth  wave 
0  'er  the  land  of  the  free  and  the  home  of  the  brave. 


Oh !  thu^  be  it  ever,  when  freemen  shall  stand 

Between  our  loved  home  and  the  war 's  desolation ; 
Blessed  with  victory  and  peace,  may  the  heaven-rescued 

land 
Praise  the  power  that  hath  made  and  preserved  us  a 

nation. 

Then  conquer  we  must,  for  our  cause  it  is  just, 
And  this  be  our  motto,  "!N  GOD  is  OUR  TRUST  "; 
And  the  star-spangled  banner  in  triumph  shall  wave 
O'er  the  land  of  the  free  and  the  home  of  the  brave. 


SOME  COURSES  OF  STUDY 


ON 


)w  to  Speak  in  Public 


By 
GRENVILLE    KLEISER 

trly   Instructor   in  Elocution,    Yale   Divinity   School,   Yale    University;    Now 
Instructor   in    Elocution,  The  Jewish   Theological  Seminary 
of  America    and    Other    Institutions 


As  a  practical  self-instructor  "  How  to  Speak  in  Public" 
is  a  complete  elocutionary  manual,  comprizing  numerous  ex- 
ercises for  developing  the  speaking  voice,  deep  breathing, 
pronunciation,  vocal  expression,  and  gesture ;  also  selections 
for  practise  from  masterpieces  of  ancient  and  of  modern  elo- 
quence. It  is  intended  for  students,  teachers,  business  men, 
lawyers,  clergymen,  politicians,  clubs,  debating  societies, 
and  every  one  interested  in  the  art  of  public  speaking  :  : 


doth,  543  pages.    $1.25,  net;  by  mail,  $J.40 
UNK    6f    WAGNALLS    COMPANY 

NEW    YORK    AND    LONDON 


COPYRIGHT,    1907,   BY 
FUNK  &  WAGNALLS  COMPANY 

Printed  in  the  United  States  of  America 


INTRODUCTORY 

The  purpose  of  this  pamphlet  is  clearly  stated  in  its 
title,  *  *  Some  Courses  of  Study  on  How  to  Speak  in  Public. ' ' 

In  the  following  pages  will  be  found  suggestions  that  it 
is  believed  will  prove  helpful  to  teachers  and  students  of 
elocution  in  securing  the  most  satisfactory  results  from  the 
close  study  of  Prof.  Grenville  Kleiser  's  recent  work,  * '  How 
to  Speak  in  Public." 

To  apply  in  a  practical  way  the  advice  and  suggestions 
of  the  author,  a  synopsis  showing  a  scheme  of  study  to  be 
followed  is  given  below,  and  embraces: 

1.  Suggestions  to  Teachers. 

2.  How  to  Study  a  Selection. 

3.  First   Course   of   Fifty   Lessons   in   Elocution,   with 
Directions  for  (1)   Breathing,   (2)   Articulation  and  Pro- 
nunciation, (3)  Voice  Exercises,  (4)  Beading,  (5)  Gesture. 

4.  Advanced  Course  of  Fifty  Lessons  in  Elocution,  with 
Exercises  in  Expression  and  Full  Selections  for  Analysis 
and  Delivery. 

5.  First  Course  of  Ten  Lessons  in  Oratory. 

6.  Advanced  Course  of  Ten  Lessons  in  Oratory. 

In  the  preparation  of  this  book  Professor  Kleiser  has 
had  for  his  aim  the  production  of  a  practical  guide  to  elo- 
cution and  public  speaking — a  work  which  can  be  studied 
alone  or  with  the  help  of  a  teacher.  This  guide  he  has 
divided  into  four  parts,  as  follows: 

PART  I— THE  MECHANICS  OF  ELOCUTION 

This  embraces  chapters  on  Breathing  and  Vocal  Hygiene, 
Vocal  Expression,  Voice  Culture,  Modulation,  and  Gesture. 
Each  of  these  subjects,  as  well  as  its  subdivisions,  is  treated 
with  that  care  and  precision  which  characterize  the  work 
of  the  specialist  alone. 

1 


PART  II— THE   MENTAL  ASPECTS 

Under  this  head  are  chapters  treating  the  arts  of  Pausing, 
Emphasis,  Inflection,  Picturing,  Concentration,  and  Con- 
versation, together  with  others  on  Confidence,  Earnestness, 
the  Emotions,  Simplicity,  Sincerity,  Spontaneity,  etc. 

PART   III— PUBLIC   SPEAKING 

In  this  section  Professor  Kleiser  points  out  what  prepa- 
rations the  aspirant  to  public  speaking  must  make  before 
he  can  be  considered  equipped  for  his  task.  He  discusses 
Physical  Health  and  Appearance,  Mental  Development, 
Memory,  Rhetoric,  Originality,  Imagination,  Personal 
Magnetism,  Moral  Character,  Faith,  Sympathy,  Fearless- 
ness, Perseverance,  etc.  Then  he  devotes  a  chapter  to  the 
Preparation  of  the  Speech,  and  describes  the  gathering 
and  arranging  of  material.  In  another  chapter  he  con- 
siders the  Divisions  of  the  Speech,  its  Discussion  and  Con- 
clusion, and  in  a  third,  its  Delivery.  Under  this  head  he 
considers  the  Audience,  the  Beginning  of  the  Speech  and 
its  Progress,  Climax,  and  Close,  in  turn,  and  follows  these 
with  general  suggestions. 

PART  IV— SELECTIONS  FOR  PRACTISE 

This  part  is  devoted  entirely  to  selections,  which  have 
been  made  with  great  care  and  which  cover  every  phase 
of  feeling  known  to  elocutionary  science. 

The  gift  of  talking  fluently,  naturally,  cohesively,  intel- 
ligently, and  coavincingly  is  possessed  to  any  marked  ex- 
tent only  by  a  few,  yet  it  may  be  acquired  by  all  who  are 
willing  to  apply  themselves  to  the  study  of  Professor 
Kleiser 's  work,  which  is  one  that  will  commend  itself  to 

2 


school-teachers,  lawyers,  ministers,  politicians,  business  men, 
salesmen,  political  and  debating  clubs,  and,  in  fact,  to  all 
persons  who  aspire  to  be  public  speakers. 


SUGGESTIONS   TO   TEACHERS 

Instructors  in  Elocution  are  urged  to  emphasize  the  fol- 
lowing points  in  their  teaching: 

1.  All  exercises  should  be  done  gently  and  slowly  at  first. 

2.  The  pupils  should  be  kept  working. 

3.  The  pupils  should  read  individually  as  often  as  pos- 
sible, and  stand  facing  the  class. 

4.  At  the  beginning  do  not  speak  of  "rules"  or  "prin- 
ciples," but  simply  get  the  pupils  to  grasp  the  thought 
behind  the  symbol. 

5.  Extracts  of  prose  and  poetry,   and   full  selections, 
should  be  assigned  for  memorizing,  according  to  age  and 
ability  of  the  pupil. 

6.  Do  not  dwell  too  long  a  time  upon  any  one  phase  of 
the  work. 

7.  Insist  upon  distinct  enunciation  and  correct  expres- 
sion in  the  other  lessons  of  the  classroom. 

8.  Criticisms  and  suggestions  should  be  kindly  and  en- 
couraging. 

9.  Be  enthusiastic  and  stimulate  the  pupil  to  great  en- 
deavor. 

TO   THE    READER 

Prof.  Grenville  Kleiser  will  take  pleasure  in  answering 
all  specific  questions  regarding  the  use  of  his  book  which 
are  put  to  him  by  correspondence.  Address  1269  Broad- 
way, New  York  City. 

3 


HOW   TO   STUDY   A    SELECTION 

1.     The  Subject-matter 

Read  the  poem  or  selection  first  as  a  whole.  Read  it  a 
second  time  carefully,  looking  up  all  unfamiliar  words, 
and  endeavoring  to  grasp  the  thought  in  detail. 

2.  Classification 

To  what  class  of  literature  does  the  poem  or  selection 
belong  ? 

3.  The  Author 

What  do  you  know  about  the  author? 

4.    Style 

If  prose,  are  the  qualities  of  clearness,  force,  and  beauty 
observed?  What  kind  of  sentences  are  employed?  Point 
out  other  characteristics  in  the  style.  If  poetry,  describe 
its  meter,  mood,  and  movement. 

5.    Diction 

Is  the  vocabulary  precise  and  copious  ?  Any  unusual  use 
of  words  ?  Is  onornatopreia  employed  ?  Anything  else  note- 
worthy ? 

6.    Emphasis 

Underscore  the  emphatic  words  with  one  line  and  the 
very  emphatic  words  with  two  lines. 

7.    Pausing 

Indicate  the  rhetorical  pauses  by  perpendicular  lines 
between  the  words,  using  one  line  for  short  pause,  two  lines 
for  medium  pause,  and  three  lines  for  long  pause.  These 
marks  are  only  approximate. 

4 


8.    Movement 

Indicate  the  general  rate  of  the  selection  in  delivery,  and 
the  places  where  the  movement  changes. 

9.    Feeling 

Write  in  the  margin  the  dominant  feeling  in  the  selec- 
tion, and  indicate  the  principal  transitions. 

10.    Gesture 

Write  the  letter  "g"  where  gestures  will  aid  in  the  ex- 
pression of  the  thought. 

NOTE. — If  an  oration  is  being  analyzed,  indicate  its 
divisions  of  introduction,  discussion,  and  conclusion.  Ex- 
amine it  carefully  for  purpose,  style,  use  of  words,  quota- 
tion, illustration,  anecdote,  figures  of  oratory,  convincing- 
ness, and  persuasiveness. 


FIRST   COURSE   OF    FIFTY   LESSONS 
IN    ELOCUTION 

PART    I 

Comprizing  exercises  in  deep  breathing,  articulation, 
pronunciation,  voice-building,  gesture,  reading,  and  reci- 
tation. 


Breathing 

Articulation 
and 
Pronunciation 

Voice 
Exercises 

Reading 

Gesture 

Lesson  1 

P.  3,  4 

P.  14,  1st  set 

P.  26 

P.  35 

P.  103 

Ex.  1,  2 

P.  12,  1st  set 

Ex.  1,  2 

Ex.  1-4 

Fig.  8, 

Lesson  2 

P.  4 

P.  14,  2d  set 

P.  26 

P.  36 

P.  104 

Ex.  3,  4 

P.  12,  2d  set 

Ex.  3,  4 

Ex.  5-7 

1st  set 

5 

Breathing 

Articulation 
and 
Pronunciation 

Voice 
Exercises 

Reading 

Gesture 

Lesson  3 

P.  4 

P.  14,  3d  set 

P.  26 

P.  37 

P.  104,  105 

Ex.  5 

P.  12,  3d  set 

Ex.  5,  6 

Ex.  8 

2d  set 

Lesson  4 

P.  4 

P.  14,  4th  set 

P.  26 

P.  37,  38 

P.  105 

Ex.  6 

P.  12,  4th  set 

Ex.  7 

Ex.   9-12 

1st  set 

Lesson  5 

P.  4 

P.  14,  5th  set 

P.  26 

P.  39,  40 

P.  105 

Ex.  7 

P.  12,  5th  set 

Ex.8 

Ex.  13-17 

2d  set 

Lesson  6 

P.  4 

P.  14,  6th  set 

P.  26 

P.  40,  42 

P.  105 

Ex.  8 

P.  13,  1st  set 

Ex.  9 

Ex.  18-22 

3d  set 

Lesson  7 

P.  5 

P.  14,  7th  set 

P.  27 

P.  42 

P.  106 

Ex.  9 

P.  13,  2d  set 

Ex.  10 

Ex.  1 

1st  set 

Lesson  8 

P.  5 

P.  14,  8th  set 

P.  27 

P.  42,  43 

P.  106 

Ex.  10 

P.  13,  3d  set 

Ex.  11 

Ex.  2,  3 

2d  set 

Lesson  9 

P.  5          |P.  14,  Triangle 

P.  27 

P.  43,  44 

P.  106 

Ex.  11 

P.  13,  4th  set 

Ex.  12,  13 

Ex.  4,  5 

3d  set 

Lesson  10 

P.  5 

P.  15,  Triangle 

P.  27 

P.  44,  45 

P.  107 

Ex.  1 

P.  17,  18 

Ex.  14 

Ex.  6-8 

1st  set 

Ex.  25,  16  lines 

Lesson  11 

P.  5 

P.     15,     Jaw, 

P.  27 

P.  45,  46 

P.  107 

Throat 

Ex.  2 

P.  18,  15  lines 

Ex.  15,  16 

Ex.  9 

2d  set 

continued 

Lesson  12 

P.  5 

P.  15,  16 

P.  27 

P.  46,  47 

P.  107 

Tongue 

Ex.  3,  4 

P.  18,  18  lines 

Ex.  17 

Ex.  10,  11 

3d  set 

continued 

Lesson  13 

P.  5 

P.  16,  Larynx, 

P.  27 

P.  47-49 

P.  108 

Lips 

Ex.  5 

P.  20,  "a" 

Ex.  18,  19 

Ex.  1-4 

1st  set 

6 

Breathing 

Articulation 
and 
Pronunciation 

Voice 
Exercises 

Beading 

Gesture 

Lesson  14 

P.  5 

P.  16,  Ex.  1-14 

P.  27 

P.  49,  50 

P.  108 

Ex.  6 

P.  20,  "b" 

Ex.  20 

Ex.  1-4 

2d  set 

Lesson  15 

P.  6 

P.  17,  Ex.  15-24 

P.  27 

P.  50,  51 

P.  108 

Ex.  7 

P.  20,  "c" 

Ex.  21 

Ex.  1-5 

3d  set 

Lesson  16 

P.  6 

P.  19,  Ex.  1-9 

P.  27 

P.  51,  52 

P.  109 

Ex.   8 

P.  21,  "d" 

Ex.  22 

Ex.  1-3 

1st  set 

Lesson  17 

P.  6 

P.  19,  Ex.  10-19 

P.  27 

P.  52,  53 

P.  109 

Ex.  9 

P.  21,  "e" 

Ex.  1-3 

Ex.  1  and 

2d  set 

T-3 

Lesson  18 

Review 

P.  19,  20 

P.  28 

P.  53,  54 

P.  109,  110 

Ex.  20-26 

P.  21,  "f,"  "g" 

Ex.  4 

Ex.  1-4 

3d  set 

Lesson  19 

Review 

P.  21,  "h,"  "i" 

P.  28 

P.  55 

P.  110 

Ex.  .5,  6 

Ex.  1-3 

Ex.  10-15 

Lesson  20 

Review 

P.  22,  "j,"  "k," 

P.  28 

P.  55,  56 

up? 

Ex.  7 

Ex.  1-4 

Lesson  21 

Review 

P.22,"m,""n," 

P.  28,  29 

P.  57 

"o" 

Ex.  8,  9 

Ex.  1-4 

Lesson  22 

Review 

P.  22,  "p,"  "q" 

P.  29 

P.  58 

Ex.  10 

Ex.  5,  6 

Lesson  23 

Review 

P.  23,  "r" 

P.  30 

P.  59 

Ex.  1 

Ex.  1-3 

Lesson  24 

Review 

P.  23,  "s,"  "t" 

P.  30 

P.  59,  60 

Ex.  2 

9  Degrees 

Lesson  25 

Review 

P.   23,    "u"    to 

P.  30,  31 

P.  61,  62 

"z" 

Ex.  3,  4 

Ex.  1-4 

7 

PART     II 


Each  of  the  following  lessons  should  be  preceded  by  ten 
minutes'  drill  in  deep  breathing,  articulation,  voice-build- 
ing, and  gesture: 


Reading  and 
Voice  Exercises 


Selections  for 
Analysis   and  Delivery 


Page 


Lesson  26 
P.  31,  Ex.  1 
P.  63,  Ex.  1,  2 

Lesson  27 
P.  31,  Ex.  2 
P.  63-65,  Ex.  1-3 

Lesson  28 
P.  31,  Ex.  3 
P.  65,  66,  Ex.  1-4 

Lesson  29 
P.  31,  Ex.  4 
P.  66-68,  Ex.  1-6 

Lesson  30 
P.  32,  Ex.  1 
P.  68,  69,  Ex.  1-3  and 
1-3 

Lesson  31 
P.  32,  Ex.  2 
P.  69,  70,  Ex.  1-4 

Lesson  32 
P.  32,  Ex.  3 
P.  70,  71,  Ex.  5-9 

Lesson  33 
P.  32,  Ex.  4 
P.  72,  73,  Ex.  1-5 

Lesson  34 

P.  32,  33,  Ex.  5 
P.  73,  74,  Ex.  6-10 

Lesson  35 
P.  75,  Ex.  1-3 


The  Legend  of  the  Organ- 
builder 

The  Legend  of  the  Organ- 
builder 

The  Legend  of  the  Organ- 
builder 

William  Tell 


William  Tell 

As  You  Like  It 
As  You  Like  It 
As  You  Like  It 
Arnold  Winkelreid 

Arnold  Winkelreid 

8 


411 


444 


370 


515 


Reading  and 
Voice  Exercises 


Selections  for 
Analysis  and  Delivery 


Page 


Lesson  36 

P.  75-77,  Ex.  1-6 
Lesson  37 

P.  77,  78,  Ex.  1-4 
Lesson  38 

P.  78,  Ex.  1-3 
Lesson  39 

P.  79,  80,  Ex.  1-3 
Lesson  40 

P.  80-82,  Ex.  1-3  and 

1-3 
Lesson  41 

P.  83,  84,  Ex.  1-4 
Lesson  42 

P.  84,  85,  Ex.  1-4 
Lesson  43 

P.  85,  86,  Ex.  1-4 
Lesson  44 

P.  86,  87,  Ex.  1,  2  and 

1,2 
Lesson  45 

P.  87,  Ex.  1-4 
Lesson  46 

P.  88-90,  Ex.  1-5 
Lesson  47 

P.  90,  91,  Ex.  6 
Lesson  48 

P.  91,  92,  Ex.  1-5 
Lesson  49 

P.  93-96,  Ex.  1-9 
Lesson  50 

P.  96-98,  Ex.  1-7 


Ode  on  Saint  Cecilia's  Day 
Ode  on  Saint  Cecilia's  Day 
The  Diver 
The  Diver 
God 

God 

God 

The  Little  Stowaway 

The  Little  Stowaway 

The  Little  Stowaway 
On  the  Rappahannock 
On  the  Rappahannock 
On  the  Rappahannock 
The  Star-spangled  Banner 
The  Star-spangled  Banner 


442 


446 


508 


511 


517 


532 


ADVANCED  COURSE    OF   FIFTY    LESSONS 
IN    ELOCUTION 

Comprizing  exercises  in  expression,  and  full  selections  for 
analysis  and  delivery.  These  lessons  should  be  preceded  by 
five  or  ten  minutes'  drill  in  deep  breathing,  articulation, 
voice-building,  and  gesture. 


Beading  Exercises 


Selections  for 
Analysis  and  Delivery 


Page 


Lesson  1 

Pausing,  P.  113-115 

Lesson  2 

Pausing,  P.  115,  116 

Ex.  1-3 
Lesson  3 

Pausing,  P.  116,  117 

Ex.  4-6 
Lesson  4 

Pausing,  P.  117-119 

Ex.  7 
Lesson  5 

Emphasis,  P.  119-122 

Ex.  1,  2 
Lesson  6 

Emphasis,  P.  122-124 

Ex.  3-5 
Lesson  7 

Emphasis,  P.  124,  125 

Ex.  6-8 
Lesson  8 

Inflection,  P.  125-129 

Lesson  9 

Inflection,  P.  129,  130 

Ex.  1-3 
Lesson  10 

Inflection,  P.  130,  131 

Ex.  4,  5 


The   Battle   of   Wa- 
terloo 

The   Battle   of   Wa- 
terloo 

Como 


Como 


The    First    Settler's 
Story 

The    First    Settler's 
Story 

The     First     Settler's 
Story 

The  Discontented 
Pendulum 

The  Discontented 
Pendulum 

The  Discontented 

Pendulum 
10 


439 


386 


420 


523 


Beading  Exercises 


Selections  for 
Analysis  and  Delivery 


Page 


Lesson  11 

Picturing,  P.  132,  133 
Lesson  12 

Picturing,  P.  133,  134 

Ex.  1-3 
Lesson  13 

Picturing,  P.  135,  136 

Ex.  4-6 
Lesson  14 

Picturing,  P.  136-138 

Ex.  7 
Lesson  15 

Picturing,  P.  136-138 

Ex.  7,  8 
Lesson  16 

Concentration,  P.  138-140 
Lesson  17 

Concentration,  P.  140,  141 

Ex.  1-3 
Lesson  18 

Concentration,  P.  142 

Ex.4 
Lesson  19 

Spontaneity,    P.    143,    144 

Ex.  1-3 
Lesson  20 

Spontaneity,  P.  144,  145 

Ex.4 
Lesson  21 

Conversation,    P.     146-148 

Ex.  1-3 
Lesson  22 

Conversation,  P.  149,  150 

Ex.  4,  5 
Lesson  23 

Conversation,  P.  150,  151 

Ex.6 


Time's  Silent  Lesson 
Time's  Silent  Lesson 

The  Two  Pictures 
The  Two  Pictures 
The  Two  Pictures 

Shipwrecked 
Shipwrecked 

Shipwrecked 

The  Power  of  Habi 

The  Power  of  Habit 


Scene  from  "The  Ri- 
vals" 

Scene  from  "The  Ri- 
vals" 

Scene  from  "The  Ri- 
vals" 

11 


436 


505 


415 


266 


450 


Reading  Exercises 


Selections  for 
Analysis  and  Delivery 


Lesson  24 

Simplicity,  P.  151-153 

Ex.  1,  2 
Lesson  25 

Review  Course 
Lesson  26 

Simplicity,  P.  153,  154 

Ex.3 
Lesson  27 

Simplicity,  P.  154-156 

Ex.  4-6 
Lesson  28 

Sincerity,  P.  156-158 

Ex.  1,  2 
Lesson  29 

Sincerity,  P.  158,  159 

Ex.  3,  4 
Lesson  30 

Aim  and  Purpose 

P.  159-161,  Ex.  1-3 
Lesson  31 

Aim  and  Purpose 

P.  161-163,  Ex.  4-6 
Lesson  32 

Confidence,  P.  164,  165 

Ex.  1,  2 
Lesson  33 

Confidence,  P.  166 

Ex.  3,  4 
Lesson  34 

Earnestness,  P.  166-169 

Ex.  1-3 
Lesson  35 

Earnestness,  P.  169,  170 

Ex.  4,  5 
Lesson  36 

Emotions,  P.  170-173 


Death  of  Little  Jo 

The  Shipwreck 
The  Shipwreck 
King  John 
King  John 
King  John 
The  Monster  Cannon 
The  Monster  Cannon 
The  Monster  Cannon 
King  Henry  VIII. 
King  Henry  VIII. 

King  Henry  VIII. 
12 


Reading  Exercises 

Selections  for 
Analysis  and  Delivery 

Page 

Lesson  37 

Emotions,  P.  174,  175 
Lesson  38 

The  Revolutionary 
Rising 

408 

Emotions,  P.  176,  177 
Lesson  39 

The  Revolutionary 
Rising 

Emotions,  P.  178,  179 

Lessons  40,  41,  and  42 
Lessons  43,  44,  and  45 
Lessons  46,  47,  and  48 

The  Revolutionary 
Rising 
The  Revenge 
Julius  Caesar 
Jean    Valjean,    the 
Convict 

390 
357 
402 

Lessons  49  and  50 

Othello 

380 

FIRST   COURSE   OF   TEN    LESSONS   IN 
ORATORY 

Each  of  the  following  lessons  should  be  preceded  by  ten 
minutes'  drill  in  deep  breathing,  voice-building,  and  ges- 
ture, as  prescribed  in  first  course: 

LESSON  1 

Introduction.  Pages  201-203.  Class  should  read  the 
extracts  separately  and  in  unison.  Assign  for  memorizing 
extract  1,  page  202,  from  Demosthenes. 

LESSON  2 

Discussion.  Pages  205-207.  Hear  selection  from  last 
lesson  and  assign  for  memorizing  extract  from  Lord 
Mansfield. 

LESSON  3 

Conclusion.  Pages  209-211.  Hear  selection  from  last 
lesson  and  assign  for  memorizing  extract  from  Webster. 

13 


Read  pages  196-200.  Ask  students  to  submit  briefs  of 
original  ten-minute  speeches.  Pupils  should  get  Baker's 
"Principles  of  Argumentation"  to  read  at  home. 

LESSON  4 

Simplicity.  Pages  151-156.  Hear  selection  from  last 
lesson  and  assign  for  memorizing  Lincoln's  Gettysburg 
speech,  pages  168,  169.  Receive  briefs  from  students.  As- 
sign dates  for  original  speeches. 

LESSON  5 

Sincerity.  Pages  156-159.  Hear  selection  from  last 
lesson  and  assign  for  memorizing  extract  from  Seward, 
pages  207-209. 

LESSON  6 

Aim  and  Purpose.  Pages  159-163.  Hear  selection  from 
last  lesson  and  assign  for  memorizing  last  two  paragraphs 
of  Patrick  Henry's  speech,  pages  287,  288.  Hear  as  many 
original  speeches  as  time  will  allow  and  invite  criticism 
of  class. 

LESSON  7 

Confidence.  Pages  164-166.  Review  Patrick  Henry's 
speech  and  hear  further  original  speeches. 

LESSON  8 

Earnestness.  Pages  166-170.  Assign  for  memorizing 
Beecher's  speech,  pages  204,  205.  Hear  original  speeches. 

LESSON  9 

Emotions.  Pages  171-175.  Review  Beecher's  speech 
and  hear  original  speeches. 

LESSON  10 

Climax.  Pages  93-96.  Assign  for  memorizing  extract 
6,  by  Burke.  Hear  original  speeches.  Review  work  of 
course. 

14 


ADVANCED   COURSE   OF   TEN    LESSONS 
IN   ORATORY 

Each  of  the  following  lessons  should  be  preceded  by  ten 
minutes'  drill  in  deep  breathing,  articulation,  voice-build- 
ing, and  gesture: 

LESSON  1 

Analyze  and  assign  for  memorizing  the  first  third  of 
Ingersoll  's  speech,  page  281.  Ask  students  to  submit  briefs 
of  original  ten-minute  speeches  and  read  at  home  pages 
185-195  of  the  text-book. 

LESSON  2 

Hear  Ingersoll  extract  and  assign  for  memorizing  second 
third  of  same.  Receive  briefs  from  students. 

LESSON  3 

Hear  Ingersoll  extract  and  assign  for  memorizing  last 
third  of  same.  Criticize  briefs  and  assign  dates  for  original 
speeches. 

LESSON  4 

Hear  Ingersoll's  speech  complete. 

Analyze  and  assign  for  memorizing  first  half  of  Webster 's 
speech,  page  243. 

LESSON  5 

Hear  Webster  extract  and  assign  for  memorizing  last 
half  of  same. 

LESSON  6 

Finish  Webster's  speech  and  assign  for  memorizing  first 
half  of  Grattan  's  speech,  page  269.  Hear  original  speeches. 

LESSON  7 

Hear  Grattan  extract  and  assign  for  memorizing  last  half 
of  same.  Hear  original  speeches. 

15 


LESSON    8 

Finish  Grattan's  speech  and  assign  for  memorizing  first 
half  of  Hugo's  speech,  page  246.     Hear  original  speeches. 

LESSON  9 

Hear  Hugo  extract  and  assign  for  memorizing  last  half 
of  same.     Hear  original  speeches. 

LESSON  10 

Finish  Hugo's  speech,  hear  students  in  original  speeches, 
and  review  extracts  from  the  various  speeches  of  the  course. 


16 


WHAT  SPECIALISTS  SAY 


Of  its  worth  as  a  medium  for  instruction  in  its  field,  Prof.  JOHN 
W.  WETZEL,  of  Yale  University,  says:  "The  work  has  been  very 
carefully  and  well  compiled  from  a  large  number  of  our  best  works 
on  the  subject  of  elocution.  It  contains  many  admirable  suggestions 
for  those  who  are  interested  in  becoming  better  speakers.  As  a 
general  text  for  use  in  teaching  public  speaking,  it  may  be  used 
with  great  success. ' '  That  eminent  jurist  the  Hon.  JOSEPH  H. 
CHOATE,  of  New  York,  says:  "There  are  many  useful  suggestions 
in  it,"  and  OTIS  SKINNER,  the  famous  tragedian,  declares  that  "it 
covers  the  ground  very  thoroughly,  and  is  a  distinct  advance  on  any 
similar  work." 

Senator  ALBERT  J.  BEVERIDGE,  who  is  considered  one  of  the  best 
speakers  in  Congress,  and  who  enjoys  a  national  reputation  as  a 
campaign  orator,  is  enthusiastic  in  his  endorsement  of  Professor 
Kleiser  's  work.  He  says :  "  It  is  admirable  and  practical  in  its 
instruction  in  the  technic  of  speaking,  and  I  congratulate  you  upon 
your  thorough  work." 

MARSHALL  P.  WILDER,  the  humorist  lecturer,  declares:  "It's  a 
good  thing.  From  it  one  can  gain  many  valuable  hints";  and 
FRANKLIN  H.  SARGENT,  President  of  the  American  Academy  of  Dra- 
matic Arts,  says:  "Your  work  should  certainly  be  commended;  the 
selections  are  most  excellent. ' '  LAWRENCE  T.  COLE,  Eector  of  Trinity 
School,  New  York,  considers  ' '  '  How  to  Speak  in  Public '  very  effec- 
tive for  its  purpose,  with  excellent  selections  for  practise."  Eev.  P. 
A.  BEECHER,  of  St.  Patrick's  College,  Maynooth,  Ireland,  writes: 
( '  I  think  you  have  produced  an  admirable  book  on  a  subject  of 
which  I  know  you  to  be  a  master. ' ' 

The  New  York  Sun,  probably  the  most  critical  of  daily  journals 
in  the  United  States,  says  that  Professor  Kleiser  "has  illustrated 
his  points  admirably,  so  that  an  educated  reader  can  understand  him. 
The  selections  for  practise  are.  excellent. ' '  The  Constitution,  of  At- 
lanta, Ga.,  realizes  that  "the  American  people  are  more  and  more 
coming  to  recognize  the  real  value  which  accrues  to  every  man  who 
knows  how  to  speak  in  public, ' '  and  says :  * '  This  book  is  both  val- 
uable and  timely." 

Of  Professor  Kleiser 's  method  the  Louisville  Courier- Journal 
says:  "His  advice  is  sound  throughout.  The  work  is  timely  and 
acceptable."  The  Boston  Morning  Star  declares:  "We  can  not 
commend  this  book  too  highly.  ...  It  is  a  fine  manual  for  classes, 
and  also  suitable  for  the  private  student,  as  its  instruction  is  so 
clear  that  any  one  e?  i  follow  it." 

Talent,  a  magazine  devoted  to  the  interests  of  the  platform,  says : 
1 '  No  better  text  for  public  speaking  has  been  published. ; ' 


TY  OF   CALIFORN 

THIS  BOOK  IS  DUE  ON  THE  LAST  DATE 
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WILL  BE  ASSESSED  FOR  FAILURE  TO  RETURN 
THIS  BOOK  ON  THE  DATE  DUE.  THE  PENALTY 
WILL  INCREASE  TO  5O  CENTS  ON  THE  FOURTH 
DAY  AND  TO  $1.OO  ON  THE  SEVENTH  DAY 
OVERDUE. 


JUL 


7    IS 

1933 


ocr 


'33  MAY  1  1841 


LD  21-50m-l, 


YB  01992 


-  *^,  .£.&** 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  LIBRARY 


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